Death and All His Friends
by Charlotte88
Summary: Multi-chap. Harry finds more than he bargained for at a crime scene; something that will change his life forever...
1. One

**One**

_"Girl, you got me trippin' on sunshine..."_

- 'Runnin' On Sunshine' by Jesus Jackson

It was with an unusual amount of cheer that a jovial Harry Cunningham walked across the sunny car park and entered the Lyell Centre on Monday morning. He'd had a good weekend, relatively speaking. Sunday night was a bit of a blur as he'd gone out drinking with Nikki, and he'd woken up earlier that morning with a headache to end all headaches, but once the paracetemol had kicked in he'd found himself smiling. For the first time in months, since he'd returned from Hungary, a whole weekend had passed where he hadn't woken in the early hours of the morning from a nightmare covered in a sheen of sweat. Three nights of uninterrupted sleep might not seem like a big deal to a lot of people, but to Harry it meant that he was finally ready to move on from what had happened. There was a part of him that would never forget those horrific few days, he knew that, but maybe he could now put it behind him and get on with his life again.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he buzzed himself in through the large glass doors and looked around. Leo was sat in his office, engrossed in some tedious-looking document, but Nikki was nowhere to be seen. Sticking his head around the door of Leo's office, Harry said, "Where's Nikki?"

Leo looked up and raised his eyebrows slightly. "Good morning, Leo, how are you today? I'm fine, Harry, thanks for asking," he mocked.

"Sorry. Morning, Leo," Harry grinned.

"That's better," Leo smiled, returning his attention to his report.

Harry waited a moment, but when Leo didn't say anything he asked again, "So, where's Nikki?"

"She's not in yet," Leo informed him. "Makes a change, it's normally you that's late."

"We went out for a drink last night, she's probably hungover," Harry mused.

Leo tutted. "On a school night?"

"Well, I was on call on Friday and she was on call on Saturday, so last night was the only night we both had free," he explained, slightly defensively.

"If you say so. Have you finished the Gillespie report yet?"

"In a word ... no," Harry admitted.

Leo sighed and looked up at him reproachfully.

"But, I am planning on going to my desk and doing it now," he added quickly. "You'll have it by the end of the day."

"I should hope so," Leo smiled. "Go on then, get on with it."

Harry mock saluted his boss before retreating to his desk. He sank into his chair with a sigh; he hadn't really intended to spend all morning doing paperwork. Deciding that the quicker he got on with it, the quicker he could get out on a case, Harry switched on his computer and pulled his notes on Gillespie towards him.

Half an hour later and Nikki finally arrived. Harry couldn't help but smirk as he noticed the coffee in her hand and her sunglasses on her eyes. He sniggered as she sat down at her desk opposite him, dumping her bag on the floor and removing the sunglasses.

"Don't you dare say anything," she muttered, placing a hand on her forehead and groaning.

Getting to his feet, Harry walked over and stood beside her before saying, loudly, "Good morning, Doctor Alexander. You're late."

"Go away, Harry," she moaned, swatting his stomach with her hand. "I blame you entirely for this."

Harry sat back down at his desk. "Hey, you're the one who kept ordering more drinks."

"Well, you were supposed to be the responsible friend and tell me when to stop," she complained.

"Now where's the fun in that?" he winked.

"You're insufferable," she groaned. Harry laughed slightly before continuing with his report.

The day passed just like any other; most of the morning spent doing paperwork, and the afternoon completing a post-mortem on a middle-aged man who appeared to have died of a heart attack. Seven o'clock finally rolled around and both Harry and Nikki were shrugging on jackets getting ready to leave when his phone rang.

"That had better not be a dead person," Harry grumbled, picking up the receiver as Nikki giggled. He sighed as a voice on the other end of the line told him that there had been a car accident and he was needed.

"What is it?" Nikki asked as he swapped his briefcase for his silver field kit, knowing that he wasn't going home anytime soon.

"A car wrapped around a tree in Hampstead Heath," he sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true that I'd actually get out of here on time for once."

"Do you want me to come?" Nikki offered.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't you have one of your hot dates tonight? An unsuitable man just waiting to flatter you into bed?"

She threw him a withering look but he could see her trying not to smile.

"No, I'm all yours," she told him.

He mock winked. "Well now, there's an offer."

"Shut up, Harry. Do you want me to come or not?"

"All right then," he said, somewhat pleased that she was going to be there. "I'll drive."

It didn't take them long to reach the scene. The late summer sun faded and darkness descended rapidly as they drove along one of the many small roads that ran through Hampstead Heath. The trees on either side of them grew more and more dense as they approached the crime scene. Up ahead Harry could see a police cordon, with traffic being directed around it. He slowed to a halt at the side of the road and he and Nikki climbed out of the car. They both stood behind the open boot and pulled on white coveralls, before grabbing their cases and walking purposefully over to where a female, plain-clothed police officer was waiting for them.

"Doctor Cunningham, I presume?" she said as they approached. She looked about forty, Harry guessed. Her curly brown hair was scraped back into a neat bun on the back of her head, whilst her grey suit and fitted jacket immediately gave her the air of a professional.

"Yes. This is Doctor Alexander, my colleague," he said, introducing Nikki as he held up the police tape and they ducked underneath it.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Detective Inspector Mary Parks."

Harry and Nikki trailed along after Parks as she led them through the trees. Harry could see tyre skid marks amongst the leaves and couldn't help but wonder how the car managed to get through without crashing sooner. It couldn't have been an easy feat. Eventually they emerged into a clearing, the leaf-strewn floor lit by floodlights. Below them was a small yet steep slope before the ground evened out again. The area was swarming with police officers, paramedics and fire crew, and on the far side, its bonnet crumpled around the huge trunk of a tree, was a small, red Volvo.

Harry half-slipped, half-jogged down the slope, holding out his hand to Nikki when he got to the bottom. "I'm not an invalid," she scolded, but she took it anyway as she also slid towards him.

"It probably would have been funnier watching you fall over, I agree," he quipped.

"You're such a child," she said as they walked quickly to catch up with Parks.

"You love it," Harry winked, before turning his attention to the car.

The bonnet was completely crushed and still smoking slightly, although there didn't appear to be any fire damage. Both of the front doors had been removed, presumably to give the emergency services better access to the victim. Slumped in the passenger seat was the body of a female, her light brown hair falling in front of her face and matted with blood. As they approached the car, Nikki asked, "Do you know who she is?"

Parks nodded. "Her purse was in the car. Her name's Kate Starling. She's thirty years old according to her driving license. I'll run her through the system when I get back to the station."

Harry leant into the car as far as he could and looked into Kate Starling's face. Her bright blue eyes were wide and glassy. There was a large cut across her hairline which had dribbled blood down her right cheek.

"How did you know she was here?" Harry asked over his shoulder.

"We had a call an hour ago. There was a driver coming in the opposite direction who claims that Mary had lost control of her car and swerved through the trees. He called us," Parks informed them.

Harry nodded, pulling back and straightening up. He let Nikki slip past him to take a look while he turned to Parks and said, "Besides a few obvious lacerations, I'm guessing the majority of her injuries were internal. I'll be able to tell you more once we get her back to the lab."

Sighing, Parks said, "I'll go and tell my guys."

Harry turned back to Nikki, with the intention of asking her if she was done, when something caught his eye. In the back of the car was a child's booster seat. Hanging across one side of it was a blanket, with a distinct red stain on it. Frowning, he crossed to the other side of the car and peered over the shoulder of the passenger seat.

"Harry? What-?" Nikki began, but he ignored her and stepped back from the vehicle, turning slowly on the spot and observing his surroundings. There were just trees, in every direction. Darkness and trees. Crossing to the perimeter of the crime scene, he walked slowly along the length of the tape. That was when he heard it. It took him a few moments to work out what the familiar sound was; tinny, repetitive, polyphonic music. Ducking under the tape, he headed in the direction of the noise. Up ahead was a huge oak tree, and it didn't take Harry long to work out that it was the source of the music.

An eerie glow was emanating from the hollow trunk on the other side of the tree. Carefully, Harry walked closer. "Hello?" he asked the thin air, feeling rather foolish. "Is anyone there?"

Immediately, the music stopped. There was a snapping sound and the light also went out, confirming Harry's suspicions.

"It's okay. I'm a ... doctor." By now he was only three feet from the tree. In just two steps he was standing in front of it. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but, as he crouched down, he could clearly see the outline of a young boy hiding in the hollowed-out trunk, a Nintendo DS console clutched in his small hand. He couldn't have been more than about eight years old, and looked terrified.

"Hi," Harry said with a smile. "What's your name then?"

The boy didn't answer, merely watched Harry with wide, frightened eyes.

"It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you," he added kindly, but the boy shook his head firmly. Harry looked up just in time to see Nikki approaching them, a curious expression on her face, but he stopped her with a meaningful glare.

"That's a really cool games console," he said, turning his attention back to the child. "What colour is it? It's a bit tricky to see in the dark. Red?"

The boy slowly nodded, which Harry found encouraging. As he moved, the little light that there was left illuminated a deep gash on the child's bare forearm.

"Why don't you come out of there?" Harry asked softly. "Let me take a look at that arm?"

Immediately, he scampered back further into the tree, shaking with fear.

"Okay, okay!" Harry said quickly, holding out his hands. "We'll just stay here until you're ready then."

There was silence for a moment. Harry could see Nikki watching them, looking troubled now that she'd worked out what was happening.

"My name's Harry, by the way," Harry smiled.

The boy did nothing but look at Harry for a moment, obviously debating whether or not he should tell him.

"I'm John," he said eventually, his voice quiet and small.

They were the first words he'd spoken, and Harry finally felt like he was getting somewhere. He grinned. "John. That's a good name. How old are you?"

"Six and three-quarters," he whispered.

Harry mock gasped. "So you're nearly seven! Wow!"

John just nodded, tears sparkling in his eyes, and Harry said gently, "What happened, John?" The little boy did nothing but shake his head vehemently, biting his lip. "There was an accident, wasn't there?"

Harry couldn't even begin to imagine how this young child must be feeling. He'd gone through the trauma of being in a car accident, watched his mother die, and then hidden inside a hollow tree for over an hour trying to block it all out. Still John refused to speak, and Harry could see tears sliding down his pale cheeks.

"I know you're scared," he said, gazing at the young boy imploringly. "I know you just want to hide in here forever, because in here nothing is real whereas out there everyone is going to want to ask you questions and take you to places you don't know, but you need to come out. Something very, very bad has happened, and I know you're upset and I know you don't think you can do this, but you can. It's horrible, what you've been through, but you're hurt and there are people who want to look after you."

"No there aren't," John whispered suddenly, desperately looking at Harry. "It was just me and my mum. No one else."

It was all Harry could do not to cry himself. He caught Nikki's eye and could see silent tears pouring down her cheeks.

"I want to look after you, and I know some very nice people who will make sure that you're okay," he assured John. He outstretched his hand. "Come on."

John looked at Harry's hand warily for a moment, until eventually he grasped it with his own tiny fingers. Smiling reassuringly, Harry got to his feet as John left the hole in the tree; neither relinquished their grip on the other's hand. They began to walk in Nikki's direction, when a jolt on Harry's arm made him realise that John had stopped moving.

Upon Harry's questioning look, John muttered, "I'm scared."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry squeezed the boy's hand and said quietly, "Don't be."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, that's right. A new multi-chap. I know this first chapter was really boring, but this story's going to have a structured plot and I wanted to get it going straight away. I've also got a mountain of deadlines at college at the moment, but as of the start of the holidays next week I will have a lot more time to write this. So please, hang in there. :)<strong>

**Oh, and there will - of course - be Harry/Nikki down the line somewhere. As if there wouldn't be. *Rolls eyes* **

**Let me know what you think so far! **

**Charlotte  
>xxx <strong>


	2. Two

**Two**

_"When the gusts came around to blow me down, I held on as tightly as you held onto me."_

- 'To Build A Home' by The Cinematic Orchestra

.

When Harry emerged from the trees with a six-year-old child clutching at his hand, all hell broke loose. Detective Inspector Mary Parks ran over to them, with a yell to get the paramedics back. All around, policemen and firemen alike were staring in shock.

"Doctor Cunningham? What's going on?" Parks snapped, frowning at the young boy who was hiding behind Harry's legs.

Not appreciating her abrupt, unfriendly tone, Harry turned to Nikki and said, "Can you-?" with a nod in Parks' direction.

She nodded, understanding immediately, so he left her to explain everything to the detective whilst he walked over to the waiting paramedics with John.

"Hey, little man," a female paramedic said with a warm smile, bending down slightly to John's level. He was still clutching at Harry's hand, peering at the ambulance from behind Harry's legs with a wary expression.

A male paramedic opened the back doors of the ambulance so that light poured out onto the leaf-strewn floor. "Do you want to come in here, son? So that we can have a look at you?" he said, not unkindly.

Feeling the little boy's firm head shake against his leg, Harry crouched down and looked John straight in the eye. "They only want to make your arm feel better," he said gently. "Don't you want that too? Make it stop hurting?"

John nodded slightly, tears shining in his large blue eyes. Ruffling the boy's light brown hair affectionately, Harry said, "Good boy. Come on, I'll be right behind you."

The male paramedic, who quickly introduced himself as Phil, helped John climb up into the ambulance while Harry followed after him. After a quick examination they determined that there wasn't anything more seriously wrong with him than the deep gash on his forearm, but they decided to take him into hospital anyway, just to be on the safe side.

On their way to the local hospital, Harry fired a quick text to Nikki explaining what was happening and asked her to inform Parks as well, then resumed holding John's hand. Despite being clearly terrified, distraught at what had happened, and obviously in pain, he still managed a small smile as the female paramedic, Jenny, joked around with the loud sirens.

When they arrived at the hustling and bustling A&E, John was wheeled into a cubicle where a doctor was waiting for them. Young and tired-looking, Doctor Robert Hale still managed a kind smile when he saw John's petrified expression.

The doctor was given a brief run-down on what had happened by Harry and the paramedics, who left quickly after an urgent voice issued from their radios, then proceeded to stitch up John's arm.

"Normally," Hale said in a mock-whisper to John, "I would get a nurse to do this. But seeing as you're such a special and important patient, you're going to get the best. And I am the best."

"I'm special?" John asked quietly, and it was the first words Harry had heard him speak since they were back in the woods.

"Of course you are!" the doctor gasped. "Why, you're probably the most special person in this whole entire hospital!"

A faint smile graced the young boy's face, which was quickly reflected in Harry's own. Just as he was about to ask the doctor something, the curtain was whipped back and a young nurse stepped into the cubicle. The bright smile set against her dark skin was friendly, her eyes immediately registering sympathy for the young boy.

"Ah," said Doctor Hale as he finished the last stitch and cut the thread, "John, this is Rachel. Remember how I said you were special? Well she's got something for you."

"Hi John," Rachel said, stepping closer to the end of the bed. "There's someone behind my back who would like to meet you. Can I introduce him?"

John nodded, looking apprehensive yet curious. Teasingly, the nurse slowly brought a fluffy stuffed owl into sight, making it 'fly' through the air to John, whose face lit up.

"For me?" he whispered, gazing at the toy in awe.

"Of course. Do you see any other important people in this room?" Rachel smiled.

Hale tapped the toy on the head and said, "He's a magical owl. He only lets the patients who have been extra brave look after him."

"What's his name?" John asked.

"Well, that's up to you," Doctor Hale said, and John looked immediately thoughtful. "Now, Rachel is going to sit with you for a minute while I have a word with Harry outside, okay?"

Harry followed the doctor from the cubicle. As soon as they were out of earshot, he said, "So, what's the verdict?"

Hale sighed wearily and muttered, "Well, he appears to be fine. In fact, it's a miracle he's not worse off after a crash to the scale that he was involved in. That's why kids' car seats were invented."

Nodding, Harry said, "It's not his physical injuries that I'm worried about. Those will heal until they're nothing more than scars... That boy in there just watched his mother die."

"I know," the doctor nodded sombrely. "But there's nothing you can do apart from keep an eye on him. Do we know if he's got any other family?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know much about him at all. I should be hearing from the detective on the case any time."

"Well, I can discharge him right now, but if he's got nowhere to go I can always recommend that he stays under 'observation' for a few hours until a social worker is sorted out."

A sudden jolt of something that he couldn't quite place hit Harry at the thought of poor little John being taken into care by some social worker than he neither knows nor trusts.

"No," he said. "He can come with me back to the Lyell Centre until we get something sorted."

"That's probably a good idea," Hale nodded. "Who better than medical professionals to keep an eye on him? And he seems to have bonded with you in particular."

Fifteen minutes later and Harry was sitting in the hospital canteen with John, who was picking at a chocolate muffin and carton of orange juice in front of him. Harry, meanwhile, had his mobile pressed to his ear as he attempted to get through to Nikki.

"Come on, Nikki... What is she doing that means she's too busy to answer her phone," he muttered to himself, then had the sudden, horrible thought that it might, in fact, be the body of John's mother that was preoccupying her. A surge of guilt shot through him.

"Who's Nikki?" the boy asked as he tentatively took a bite of muffin before offering another piece to his owl.

"Remember the pretty woman with blonde hair from the woods? That's Nikki. She's nice, you'll like her," he said, pleased that John was finally beginning to ask questions rather than just answer them.

"Do you like her?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, I do."

"Are you girlfriend and boyfriend?" John asked, looking up at him with innocent, inquisitive eyes.

A small laugh escaped Harry's lips. "That muffin seems to have perked you up a bit. No, Nikki and I are just friends."

"Is she your bestest friend?"

"Yes, I suppose she is. What about you? Who's your best friend?" Harry asked gently.

"Tommy. He's in my class at school. But I have lots of friends," John told him seriously.

"I bet you do," Harry chuckled, then tried Nikki again.

Just as he was about to give up she answered, sounding harassed and impatient. "Harry, where are you?"

"Still at the hospital, why?"

"Well Parks is here. I've just been in a meeting with her for over an hour. Leo's come back in to do the PM on Kate Starling, but we could do with you here," she told him quickly. "Parks says that she'll send a family liaison officer to meet you and take John back to the station until a social worker turns up."

"No," Harry said quickly, thinking of his conversation with Robert Hale. "I'll bring him back to the lab with me."

"Harry..."

"He trusts me, Nikki," Harry muttered, but John was busy making his owl drink from his juice carton and didn't appear to be listening. "The lab is fine. Just until everything's sorted."

"How is he, anyway?" she asked concernedly.

"Fine. Physically, at least," he told her, casting a worried glance at the boy.

"Well that's good. Do you want me to come and pick you up? I'll bring your car and then you can drive us back," she offered, to Harry's immense relief. He'd hoped that she'd taken his car back from the crime scene after he'd got in the ambulance.

"Yeah, that'd be great. I'll see you out the front of the hospital in fifteen minutes?"

"Okay, see you soon."

He hung up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. "Come on, John. Nikki's going to come and pick us up."

"What's the lab?" John asked as he slipped off his chair and the two of them headed out of the canteen.

"It's the place that I work. It's called the Lyell Centre," Harry explained. "We help the police work out what happened at accidents."

He didn't really want to go into any more detail, yet he had a feeling that this nearly-seven-year-old boy knew more than he was letting on.

"Are you looking after my mummy now?" he asked in a small voice as they walked through the quiet corridors.

"Yes. Yes, we are," Harry said softly.

John, his owl tucked under one arm, reached up and took hold of Harry's hand with his free arm. Feeling a sudden rush of affection towards him, Harry found the need to swallow the lump which had inexplicably risen in his throat.

They stepped outside into the summer night, a slight breeze causing them both to shiver as they found a bench looking out over the car park. Harry put his arm around John's shoulders in an attempt to keep him warm; the young boy was only wearing a t-shirt and trousers.

"Have you decided what you're going to call your owl?" he asked.

John held the owl at arm's length in front of him, examining it with apparent great thought for a few moments, before saying, "Harry. His name is Harry."

A smile on his face, Harry said, "That is an _excellent _name."

John looked up at him and also grinned. It was the first time he'd seen a proper smile on the boy's face and he couldn't help himself thinking just how many more there would be once the reality of what had happened that evening really sank in.

A few minutes later and Harry recognised his car as it swung into the car park. Nikki parked at the bottom of the steps in front of them and got out, leaning against the vehicle as they walked down towards her. Harry strapped John into the back, who thankfully didn't seem to have any qualms about getting into a car again.

Straightening up, Harry pushed the door closed and then turned to face Nikki. She passed him the keys and said, "Is he okay?"

"For the moment," Harry nodded. "What has Parks found out about him? His father?"

Nikki's face fell as she slightly shook her head. "His dad was Lance Corporal Michael Starling, a Royal Marine out in Afghanistan. He was killed three years ago in Helmand Province."

Harry sighed. "What about any other family?"

"John's parents were only children and both sets of grandparents are dead. There is no one. Parks wants to ask him a few questions about what happened, and then he'll go into the system."

Looking at John in the back of the car, his arm waving as he made the owl 'fly', Harry muttered, "He has no idea what's coming to him, the poor kid."

A slightly concerned frown spread across Nikki's face and she looked like she was going to say something, but Harry climbed into the driver's seat of the car before she could.

John had resumed his vow of silence as soon as they walked into the Lyell Centre, clearly untrusting of all the new people around him. He sat close to Harry at the table in the offices, guardedly avoiding the gaze of Mary Parks. The smile on her face was clearly a little forced, and Harry would hazard a guess that she didn't have children, and nor did she particularly want to.

She asked John to describe what had happened, which Harry was particularly resentful of. It was late, nearing ten o'clock, and John was clearly exhausted. Making him relive everything was not only going to be very painful, but as far as Harry was concerned, unnecessary. Leo had told him that preliminary tests on the car had shown an entirely accidental brake failure, and the post-mortem on Kate Starling hadn't turned up any kind of substance abuse or anything suspicious.

The young boy answered her in quiet, short sentences, clutching Harry the Owl's wing tightly in his small fist. When he reached the part about realising that his mother was dead, climbing out of the car and running to hide in the tree, he burst into tears. Swallowing hard, Harry told Parks that that was enough and scooped John up into his arms. He carried him over to sofa and sat with him, holding John against him as he sobbed, tears dribbling down his flushed cheeks.

Harry watched as across the room Parks was having a deep discussion with Leo. Occasionally they would glance across to where he and John were. Eventually Parks left, nodding at Harry on her way out. Leo retreated to his office, Nikki close behind him.

A few minutes later and John's sobs began to subside. Sniffing, he whispered, "I miss my mummy."

"I know," Harry muttered. "You will do for a long time. But do you know what I think?"

John shook his head and Harry pointed out of the window, to where the stars were just about visible in the clear, dark sky.

"You just have to look for the biggest and brightest star in the sky. Because that star is your mummy now, and she'll always be there to watch over you. Even in the daytime she'll be there, you just can't see her. But at night she'll shine extra brightly to make sure that all the bad dreams stay away."

"Really?" John asked softly, releasing a deep shuddering breath.

"Really," Harry confirmed.

A few moments later and the little boy's breaths evened out and slowed down, his grip on Harry loosening. Glancing down, Harry could see that he was fast asleep, his face positively angelic. Carefully extracting himself, Harry stood up and gently eased John into a lying position on the sofa, placing a cushion under his head. He tugged the throw that was draped over the back of the sofa off and placed it over the sleeping child, tucking the corners in slightly so that it wasn't hanging onto the floor.

When he straightened up and turned around he could see Nikki watching from the doorway, her arms folded across her chest and tears in her eyes. Crossing the room to the table he had not long departed, he sank into one of the chairs with a groan, leaning back and running his hands over his face before letting his arms fall to the table top. A moment later and Nikki sat in the chair beside him, placing her hand on his forearm.

"How long were you standing there?" he asked her tiredly.

"A while. That was beautiful, what you told him," she said.

He shrugged. "It was what my mum told me after Dad... after Dad killed himself. She would insist that when someone died they would become a star in the sky, there to watch over the loved ones they left behind."

Her hand sliding down his arm until her fingers found his, Nikki's grip tightened. "I like that idea," she mumbled, and he turned his head to look at her. She smiled at him, a sad smile that was more heartbreaking than if she'd burst into tears, because for the first time since he'd known her it really hit him that she too had lost her mother, just as he had lost his father.

He wanted to say something comforting, but they were interrupted by Leo who came and stood behind them. "I've just had social services on the phone," he said. "Someone will be coming to collect John in about an hour."

* * *

><p><strong>So this is dedicated to deadfairies, who totally kicked my bum into gear and got me writing it again, when I'd completely forgotten all about it! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you! <strong>

**I know where I'm going with this now, so I should be writing and updating quicker. In fact, I've already nearly finished chapter three. However, seeing as it's my A-Level results day tomorrow it might not be up for a couple of days. :S **

**Good luck to anyone else getting their results, and reviews are very much appreciated! :)**

**Charlotte  
>xxx <strong>


	3. Three

**Three**

_"They're mopping up the butcher's floor, of your broken little hearts."_

- 'O Children' by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

.

"Hi. I'm Jane Campbell, John's social worker," said the short, suited woman who had just entered the Lyell Centre, shaking Harry firmly by the hand. She had a pinched, pointed nose and pursed lips with her dark hair in a high ponytail on her head. Her whole manner was that of professionalism and it couldn't be clearer that she was a stickler for the rules; however her eyes were kind and her voice soft, a stark contrast to her sharp appearance.

"Harry Cunningham," he nodded, and then gestured to the other two people seated at the table, "Nikki Alexander and Leo Dalton, my colleagues."

"Hi," the social worker smiled. "Call me Jane. Mind if I sit down?"

She sat next to Leo, opposite Harry and Nikki. Peering over Harry's shoulder to the other side of the room, she smiled sympathetically as she spotted John sleeping on the sofa. It was just gone eleven and the young boy hadn't woken since he'd fallen asleep over an hour ago. Everyone was exhausted, Harry included, yet he knew that he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

"What's going to happen to John?" he asked abruptly, getting straight to the point.

Jane leant forward on the table, her palms pressed together as if in prayer. "I've found him a temporary foster placement for tonight, seeing as it's so late. A lovely woman called Edna, who's been fostering children for nearly forty years. She says she's got room for a little one," she said, smiling slightly.

"But that's only temporary?" Leo frowned.

"Yes," Jane nodded. "Edna's getting too old now to consider adopting or fostering full-time, so she's one of our emergency placements. Tomorrow we will reassess the situation."

"You're going to put him in a care home, aren't you?" Harry muttered, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"It's a high possibility, yes," Jane said regretfully. "We'd rather we found him a permanent family, of course we would, but that doesn't happen overnight. John may have to spend some time in a care home until we can find somewhere for him. You know what it's like; the system's a little stretched."

Harry let out a derisive bark of a laugh, leaning back in his chair and glaring at the social worker. Placing her hand on his arm again, Nikki muttered, "Harry..." in that tone she uses when she wants him to calm down. Taking a deep breath, he leant forward again.

"Look, Doctor Cunningham," Jane said placatingly. "I don't like this any more than you do. But wouldn't you rather he spent some time in a home until we find him a stable, loving family that he's happy to go to, rather than moving about from place to place?"

Unable to argue with this, Harry muttered, "I suppose so. Which care home will he be going to?"

"It's called Willow House. It's fairly near here, just a fifteen minute drive."

Clearing her throat, Nikki said in a tired voice, "What's it like? I mean, I've seen the documentaries on television. Some of these children's homes are absolute hell-holes."

Jane stiffened slightly. "I can assure you that the homes you see in these 'documentaries' represent an incredibly small proportion of England's care homes, and they are being drastically improved. But you needn't worry. Willow House is one of the best in London. It has an excellent reputation and wonderful staff. Think _Tracy Beaker_ rather than Victorian orphanage."

Leo snorted slightly in disbelief. Jane looked rather affronted but quickly recovered and said, "Do you think I do this job for the mountain of paperwork? Do you think I enjoy taking children from their parents? Seeing them tragically orphaned like John over there? No, of course I don't. That's the hardest part. But I became a social worker to _help_ children; to improve their lives. To work _with_ the kids to find them somewhere that they can be happy, happier than they've ever been. I would never 'dump' a child somewhere where either I or they weren't one hundred percent certain that they'd be safe and content."

There was startling honesty in Jane's eyes, and Harry suddenly felt a newfound sense of respect and admiration towards her. He'd met care workers in the past who were far less compassionate.

"Do you have to take him now?" he asked, looking over at the small, sleeping form on the sofa. "Can't you let him sleep? He's been through so much."

"I'm afraid not," she said. "Edna's waiting for us. Besides, the sooner we get him to a proper bed, the better."

Harry sighed, but nodded. As much as he disliked it, he knew that she was right. "Let me wake him," he said, getting up from the chair and crossing the room.

He could feel three pairs of eyes on him as he crouched down beside the sofa, placing his hand on John's shoulder and gently shaking him awake.

John snapped his eyes open and sat bolt upright, looking disorientated and confused. His eyes focused on Harry and realisation crashed over him.

"It's okay," Harry murmured, pressing the toy owl into the young boy's hands. "It's all right."

John looked around the room, then whispered to Harry, "Who's that funny lady?"

"That's Jane," Harry explained. "She's come to take you somewhere safe, somewhere comfortable. You're going to go and stay with a nice lady called Edna tonight. She'll look after you. And then tomorrow you're – tomorrow you're going to go to a big house with lots of other children like you."

John's bottom lip trembled as tears filled his eyes. "I want to stay here. I like it with you," he murmured.

Nodding and clearing his throat, Harry said, "I know. I know you do. But you can't, I'm sorry. The place where you're going is nice, I promise. And eventually they'll find you a nice family that you can live with. I know they'll never replace your mum, but perhaps they might help the pain go away a little bit."

The young boy nodded dejectedly, hugging Harry the Owl tightly under one arm. Reaching into his pocket, Harry extracted one of his business cards from his wallet. On it was the Lyell Centre address and his work and mobile numbers. "Look," he said, passing the card to John, "these telephone numbers here are my numbers, okay? And that's the address of this place we're in. So if you ever want to write or ring me up, you can. I'll always be here if you want to talk, all right?"

John clutched the card as if it was the most valuable thing in the world and then spontaneously threw his arms around Harry's neck, dropping the owl in the process. Smiling slightly, Harry stood up so that he was holding the little boy, who promptly laid his cheek on Harry's shoulder. Turning around, Harry could see Nikki, Leo and Jane approaching. Nikki picked up the owl and with a reassuring smile passed it back to John, who clutched it tightly in the hand that didn't contain Harry's card.

"Hi, John," Jane said with a large grin, "That's a great owl you've got there."

"His name's Harry," John said defiantly. All four adults chuckled quietly.

"Come on then, John," said Jane. "Time to go."

Harry put the young boy down and crouched down to his eye level again. "I'll speak to you soon, okay?" he said, his eyes unashamedly prickling. "You be a good boy. And always remember: just look for the brightest star."

John gave Harry a small smile, but Jane quickly took his hand and began to lead him away.

"I'll show you out," Leo said, following them.

Harry stayed crouched down as John reached the large, frosted glass doors. The little boy turned around and waved at Harry, before Leo buzzed the door open and all three disappeared through it and out of sight.

Blinking away the tears, Harry straightened up but continued to stare at the spot where they'd just vanished. Beside him, he felt fingers weave through his own and Nikki's other hand clutch at his forearm.

"I'm coming back with you tonight," she murmured, resting her head on the top of his arm comfortingly.

"Don't be silly," he mumbled. "I'm fine."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said firmly. "I refuse to let you drink yourself into oblivion, which I know you will if you're alone."

Despite consistently saying that he didn't need her, Harry was incredibly grateful for her company as he drove home. They spent the car journey in a comfortable silence, Harry too lost in his thoughts to make trivial conversation.

It was when they arrived back at his apartment and were settled down on the sofa with a movie playing that Nikki finally spoke.

"You're really good with kids, you know that? First Niall last year and John tonight..."

Harry snorted. "Firstly, Niall was a teenager. There is a stark difference between that and a child. Secondly... It's not that I'm good with kids. I guess I could just relate to how John was feeling, in some way."

"Well, I still think you'd make an excellent father one day," Nikki shrugged, picking at the Chinese food on the coffee table.

Truth be told, Harry had never thought a great deal about what he'd be like in such a situation. He supposed there was a part of him that perhaps wanted a family. Maybe Nikki was right, maybe he would be a good father. He could learn from the mistakes that his own dad made, be better than that. But, of course, it all came down to the fact that he had to find someone willing to have a family with him first, and that woman was just as elusive as ever. He glanced across at Nikki, who was laughing at something in the movie, and couldn't repress the thought that she'd make a good mother.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" she suggested suddenly, snapping him out of his reverie. "It's gone midnight and we've got work tomorrow."

"Do you want the spare room?" he asked, knowing full well that that was what she was intending anyway. She even had some of her belongings in there for an occasion such as this, so that the following morning she could just go straight to work rather than home to change first. It was so domesticated that part of him couldn't help wondering just what they'd be like if she lived there permanently; and not just in the spare room.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, for they were dangerous territory to be treading into a such a late hour when he was as emotionally exhausted as he was, he got to his feet.

"I'll lock up," Nikki said. "I want to watch the end of the film, anyway."

He smiled his gratitude and headed to his bedroom, quickly getting changed before collapsing into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Despite being shattered, he didn't sleep all that well. From about two a.m. onwards he kept waking up, dreams of John being alone and scared plaguing him, dreams which then merged into him and a faceless little girl with blonde hair that was a startlingly similar shade to Nikki's doing finger painting, until finally at about five o'clock he gave up trying to sleep at all.

He slipped out of bed and got changed into his tracksuit. Quietly, he left his bedroom and entered the lounge, noting with a smile that Nikki had cleared away all their food remains the previous evening. One of these days he'd have to tell her that he doesn't know what he'd do without her.

He doesn't go for a particularly long run, but there's something about the rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement, his heart pumping hard, that's quite soothing in a way. Dawn has already broken and the sky is a pale blue, not a cloud in sight. It's cool but not cold, just refreshing against his hot skin. The weak early-morning sun is bright by the time he returns to his apartment and he guesses about half an hour has passed.

As he opened his front door, out of breath and sweaty, he spotted Nikki immediately in the kitchen, bustling around making coffee.

"I wondered when you'd be back," she said, fully-dressed and stirring milk into a mug.

He crossed the room to the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass of water, downing it in one. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he said, "I'll make breakfast."

"No, I'll make breakfast while you shower," she corrected quickly. "You need one."

For the first time that morning a grin spread across his face. On the pretence of reaching up into the cereal cupboard behind Nikki's head, he made no effort not to press himself against her.

"Urgh," she squealed with a giggle, pushing at his damp t-shirt, "Get off, you're disgusting!"

Laughing, he pulled back and left the room. He showered and dressed quickly, and was just buttoning up his shirt when there was a soft knock on his bedroom door and Nikki stuck her head into the room. He nodded for her to come in and she opened the door wider, holding his mobile phone in her hand.

"That was Jane," she said quietly, gesturing to his phone. "John's missing."

* * *

><p><strong>You guuuuuyz! Thank you so much for all the reviews, I'm glad you didn't give up on this like I nearly did. It means the world that you're still enjoying it. :)<strong>

**Let me know what you think! **

**Charlotte  
>xxx <strong>


	4. Four

**Four**

_"I ain't lost, just wandering."_

- 'Hometown Glory' by Adele

.

Harry impatiently sounded his horn at a learner driver who was doing twenty miles per hour in a thirty zone.

"Will you calm down? They're only a learner," Nikki said.

"I don't care. We could be helping look for John by now if we weren't going at five miles an hour," he said angrily.

"Bit of an exaggeration," she muttered quietly, but Harry was too busy drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel to hear her. The rush hour traffic was proving particularly tiresome that morning, especially when he knew that there were much more important things they could be doing.

As if she read his mind, Nikki said, "Besides, what are you planning to do? It's not like there's much we _can_ do. Parks has a whole police force out looking for him, Harry."

"How can you be so blasé?" he growled angrily. "Don't you care about him at all?"

Hurt shone in Nikki's eyes and he immediately regretted his words.

"How can you say that?" she gasped. "Of course I care about him!"

"Sorry," he muttered, just as the traffic finally started moving again. "I didn't sleep much."

"Yes, well ... Neither did I."

They spent the rest of the journey in silence, both too caught up in worry to pay much attention to anything else. Parks was waiting for them in the offices when they arrived, much as she had been the previous evening. Stood beside her was Leo, looking uncharacteristically serious, and Jane the social worker, also looking sombre.

"Have you found him?" Harry asked quickly.

"No, Doctor Cunningham, we haven't," Parks said. "But I've got fifty men out looking, he can't have gone far."

"How did this happen?" Nikki said, setting her handbag down at her desk and shrugging off her jacket.

It was Jane who answered her. "Edna woke up this morning to find his bed empty. The rucksack that I'd packed for him from his house was also missing. The window in the bedroom was wide open and it looks as if he climbed out of it and onto the tree directly outside, which he then climbed down."

Leo said, "Do you have any idea where he might have gone, Harry? Did he mention anything to you?"

Racking his brains, Harry said, "Not really. He mentioned a best friend ... Tommy, I think it was. Said he was in his class at school. Perhaps he went there?"

Nodding, the detective pulled out her mobile phone. "Okay, I'm on it."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Well, let me come out and help you find him. I'll drive around, hand out posters or something..."

"No," said Parks immediately, her mobile pressed to her ear. "That's exactly what my guys are doing. I need you to stay here and sit tight. I know it's difficult, but I promise I'll update you with any – Oh, hello? Yes, it's DI Parks. I need details on John Starling's class mates, a boy called Tommy..."

Parks walked from the lab without bidding any of them goodbye, leaving silence in her wake. Harry sank into the chair at his desk, placing his head in his hands. Nikki muttered, "I feel sick. What if something happens to him?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Leo said, placing a hand on Nikki's shoulder.

"Professor Dalton's right," Jane said, and Harry couldn't help but notice that she looked a little less well-presented than she had done the day before. "Unfortunately, this kind of event happens often. The child misses their home, their family, wants to get back to them. He's probably just gone somewhere familiar to him, somewhere he considers safe."

Nikki nodded, still looking uncertain, and Leo said, "He'll turn up."

Miserably, Harry muttered, "He doesn't have any family."

The faces of the three other adults in the room fell.

Two hours later and there was still no news. Harry had been calling Parks every twenty minutes until she had finally snapped and told him not to ring again, and that _she_ would call _him_ with updates. He'd then tried calling Jane to see if she knew anything, but she was also busy. Lonely at his desk, for Nikki had been called out to a scene an hour previously, Harry had nothing to distract his mind from the gruesome scenarios it was imagining.

Emerging from his office, Leo came and stood beside him. He knew better than to ask if Harry was going to get any work done, so instead just asked him if he was all right.

"I'm fine, Leo," he replied. "It's not me that we should be worrying about."

"Nikki said that you didn't sleep well last night," Leo continued. "Although how she would know that..."

Even in his despair, Harry could sense Leo's curiosity. Trying to make his expression as serious as possible, he said, "Well, of course she would know. I mean, we were both up all night having wild and passionate sex."

Leo tutted and pulled a face at Harry's distasteful remark. "Harry..."

With a short laugh he said, "Come on, Leo. Yes, she stayed at mine. In my _spare room_. I _told her_ that I didn't sleep much this morning in the car."

"All right, all right," Leo said, holding up his hands defensively. "There was no need to be so crude about it."

"You shouldn't have been so nosey," Harry countered, to which Leo said nothing but threw him a withering glare.

The telephone on Harry's desk trilled loudly, causing Harry to sigh. He really didn't want to go out on a case. He wanted to do nothing other than sit at his desk all day and wait for news on John.

Picking up the receiver, he said shortly, "Doctor Cunningham."

"Hi, it's Nick from security," said a gruff voice on the other end of the line, "We've got a young boy in reception asking for you and an angry taxi driver who wants paying for his fare."

His eyes widening and hope igniting in his stomach, Harry said, "Okay, I'll be right down." He hung up the phone and hurried from the room, Leo close on his heels.

"Harry? What's going on?"

Harry didn't answer him, and once they reached reception he didn't need to. For there was John, looking a little grubby but otherwise unharmed, sitting in a chair and clutching his owl close to his chest. Relief washed over Harry, but he didn't have long to bask in it before a furious-looking, rather portly man with a very red face stepped towards him.

"Oi. You this kid's dad?" he demanded, while Nick from security placed a restraining hand on the taxi driver's arm.

"No. Why?"

"The little brat told me that his dad were waitin' for us in the car park and would bleedin' well pay me when I got there. Was he? No he bloody well was not!" the man shouted.

To impatient to argue with him, Harry took a twenty pound note from his pocket and passed it to the cab driver.

"Now that's more like it," the unpleasant man remarked, snatching the money from Harry's hand, "And I'll be keepin' the change, for me troubles an' all that."

Nick said, "Right, out you," and marched the driver from the building.

Once he was gone, Harry rushed over and knelt before John, who smiled happily. "John, where have you been? You had us all worried!"

"I wanted to see you," John whispered, "I didn't like it with that lady."

Not having the heart to tell him off, Harry said, "Come on." John jumped off the chair, hoisting his bright red rucksack onto his back, tucked his owl under one arm and took Harry's hand with the other. The two of them walked over to where Leo was just hanging up the phone.

"Hello, trouble," he smiled at John, then looked at Harry and said, "I've phoned Parks, she's on her way. So is the social worker."

Half an hour later and Harry and John were once again sitting on the sofa in the lab, whilst Parks sat in Harry's desk chair opposite them and Jane and Leo hovered behind her.

"So, John," smiled Parks. "You've been on quite an adventure this morning, haven't you?"

The little boy nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Do you want to tell us how you got out of Edna's house?" the detective continued.

John was quiet for a moment, then said, "I climbed out of the window and down the tree."

"And how did you get here, to the Lyell Centre?"

"I had the address on the card Harry had gave me last night, so I kept walking until I found that mean taxi man and told him to take me here. He asked me for money but I lied and said that I had a daddy here who would pay him. I would have walked but I didn't know which direction to go in."

Harry had to admire the young boy; it was the sort of thing he himself would have done at that age.

"I just can't believe the cab driver didn't ask any more questions or call the police," Leo said, shaking his head in bemusement.

"I think he'd have taken anyone as long as he got his money out of it at the other end," Jane said shrewdly, then turned to look at John. "What are we going to do with you, eh?"

"Let me stay here," he said immediately.

Harry chuckled softly. "You know we can't do that."

"But why? I like it here!" he pouted, kicking his heels against the sofa in protest.

A sudden, slightly crazy, thought ran through Harry's head. Getting to his feet, he said to Jane, "Can I speak to you a minute?"

She nodded and he led the way into Leo's office, shutting the door behind them so that they would have some privacy.

"What is it?" she asked him curiously.

Harry hesitated and then said, "Is it such a bad idea?"

"Is what such a bad idea?"

"For John to stay here. With me."

Jane gaped at him for a moment and then said, "Doctor Cunningham, what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that perhaps he stays with me until something more permanent can be sorted out. Until a foster family can be found."

Even he can't quite believe his own words. Twenty-four hours ago, being a father had been the last thing on his mind. In fact, if someone had suggested to him that he'd soon be taking a six-year-old boy under his roof then he would have laughed in their face.

"It's not quite as simple as that," Jane said, still looking shocked. "We'd have to get character references, do a criminal records check, complete an evaluation on your home, study your day-to-day schedule, your personal life ... everything."

"I know," he nodded, "I know all that. Look, I'm not saying that I adopt him. I'm definitely not ready for that. It will just be for a few days. I'm due some holiday leave off work anyway."

"I don't know..." she muttered.

"But didn't you say your job was to put the child somewhere that they are happy? And John is happy with me."

"Yes, but what happens once your leave is over and we still haven't found John a family?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

Jane looked thoughtful for a moment, as if she couldn't really believe what she was hearing, before saying, "Okay. There's a difference between fostering a child and having temporary custody of them. I think what you are after is the latter. Becoming a foster parent takes a long time and a lot of training on your part, whereas the decision of temporary custody is a lot quicker. It's used in emergencies such as this."

"All right, so I'll get temporary custody then," he said simply.

"You'll still have to go through the whole rigmarole of CRB checks and everything else I mentioned earlier," she warned. "And it's not me who makes the final decision. It will be a whole panel of important people."

"Fine by me," he shrugged happily.

"It's all very unorthodox," she added, biting her lip. "Let me ring my boss and run it by her."

Harry exited the office as Jane pulled out her mobile phone, heading back to where Leo, John and Mary Parks were. Leo frowned at him as he approached.

"What was that about?" he muttered as Harry passed.

"I'll tell you later," he replied, aware that John was listening.

Parks got to her feet just as Harry sat down. "Right, hopefully you won't have to see me again now. That is, if you stop running off, young man," she mock-scolded, and Harry could have sworn that her smile was genuine.

"Thanks for all your help," Harry said, standing up again to shake the detectives hand.

"Believe it or not, that's what I'm here for," she said, not unkindly, and after shaking hands with Leo she headed towards the doors, reaching them just as Nikki returned and buzzed them open.

Upon seeing John sitting on the sofa, nothing but shock registered on Nikki's face. She rushed over to them, carelessly dropping her silver field kit onto her desk.

"John! You're safe!" she cried, sitting on the little boy's other side and smiling at him affectionately. "We were all so worried about you."

Laughing slightly as John made his owl peck Nikki's cheek, Harry said, "Leo, do you think you could find John some colouring pencils or something?"

Leo, not missing Harry's hidden agenda of wanting John out of the way so that he could speak to Nikki, looked a little concerned but said, "Of course. Come on, John. I'm sure we've got a cupboard with some games in somewhere."

John jumped off the sofa and took Leo's hand as they walked across the far side of the room.

"What's up?" Nikki asked, shifting closer to Harry.

"I've asked Jane to help me get temporary guardianship of John," he told her, watching as her jaw dropped open.

"What?" she exclaimed. "But, Harry..."

"There are no buts about it," he said quickly, and proceeded to give her the same argument he had given Jane in Leo's office.

When he had finished she had the exact same uncertain expression that Jane had worn, and said, "Are you sure about this?"

"More sure than I've ever been about anything. It's not permanent, and he's such a great kid. I don't want him to get dumped in some care home that he's not happy in," he said, and he could see her softening.

"Is this because I told you that you'd make a good father?" she asked shrewdly.

He laughed. "Partly, I guess. But ... I'm going to need your help."

She looked puzzled. "Help with what?"

"I can't do this alone, Nikki," he confessed, his tone quieter and more serious than before. "I can't be a dad on my own, even if it is only temporary, I don't know how to-"

Cutting him off by placing her hand over his, Nikki said, "It's okay. You know I'm only the other end of the phone if you need me. Anytime; day or night. Although I wouldn't like to say how much use I'll be."

He wanted to hug her, but before he could do anything more than think about it, Jane reappeared. Approaching Harry she made sure that John was out of earshot before saying, "I've pulled some strings and there will be a panel at three this afternoon. But I have a good feeling that they'll decide in your favour. Come four o'clock, I expect you'll be John's legal guardian."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for all the reviews! I love you all. :)<strong>

**And to those asking about my results, I'm off to uni to do English Literature and Creative Writing next month. So yay! :D**

**xxx**


	5. Five

**Five**

_"Weep little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start."_

- 'Little Lion Man' by Mumford & Sons

.

"Okay," said Harry, unlocking his front door and letting John in before him, "Welcome to my humble abode."

He followed the young boy into the apartment, dumping his briefcase down on the table and watching as John tentatively walked into the lounge and took in his new surroundings. He was still clutching Harry the Owl under one arm and his red rucksack was securely on his back.

"What do you think?" Harry asked, almost nervously.

"I like your TV," John grinned, admiring Harry's large, widescreen television.

Laughing, he said, "Thanks. Come on, I'll show you your bedroom."

Leading the way to the spare room that Nikki had slept in only the previous night, he was glad to discover that she had made the bed and tidied before she had left that morning. Worried slightly by the silence that John was upholding, Harry said, "I'll change the sheets for you and perhaps we can pop back to your house and get some of your toys and stuff. I mean, if you want, you don't have to..."

John smiled slightly and said, "I would like to show you my zoo."

An hour later and they were back at John's house, sitting in the car outside waiting for Jane Campbell to show up. It was a large, red-brick Victorian house in a particularly wealthy area of Hampstead Heath, not ten minutes from the scene of the accident. The front garden was full of small, colourful flowers; well kept with a neat stone path leading to the large front door.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Harry said quietly, noticing the look of apprehension on the little boy's face. "You can wait here?"

John shook his head, and his determination made Harry smile. Glancing in his rear-view mirror at the car that pulled up behind them, Harry was pleased to see that Jane had finally arrived. He'd taken a liking to the social worker since meeting her twenty-four hours previously. It genuinely did seem to be that she was far more interested in the welfare of the children than in the rules and regulations. Not that she didn't stick to them – in fact, Harry would guess that breaking the rules might cause her physical pain – but she did seem unafraid to bend them if it was for the best.

Getting out of the car, Harry then walked around and opened the door for John, who seemed reluctant to move. Eventually, however, he stepped out onto the pavement and allowed Harry to close the door behind him. The young boy then gazed up at the house with some trepidation, as if he knew that inside lay waiting horrors.

"Hi, John," Jane smiled. "Are you ready for this?"

Turning his attention away from his house, John looked up at Jane and said, "I'm not scared," despite his tone suggesting otherwise.

Neither adult said anything, but Harry held out his hand to John as they walked down the garden path.

Jane pulled out some keys from her handbag and inserted one into the lock on the front door. It swung open and John entered first, pulling Harry behind him.

It was a nice house; cream carpets, neutral walls covered in framed photographs, modern-yet-homely furniture. But before Harry could see anything other than the hallway and a glimpse at the living room, John tugged him up the stairs. They eventually came to a halt outside a white bedroom door with colourful wooden letters spelling out 'John's Room'.

It was just like any other six-year-old boy's room. There were toy chests everywhere; stuffed animals littered the bed; the bookcases were full of children's books, both fiction and non-fiction. The duvet cover had brightly coloured cars and aeroplanes on it.

"I'll tell you what," said Harry, as John sat down on the edge of his bed, "Why don't I go and find you a suitcase to pack some things in?"

Exiting the room, Harry knew that it was probably best to give John a couple of minutes alone. It must be overwhelming for him to be back here anyway, the last thing he needed was Harry there going through his stuff. Heading back downstairs, he found Jane in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table absentmindedly tracing her finger over the wooden surface. Sinking into the chair opposite her, Harry groaned with fatigue.

"What's he doing?" she asked quietly.

"Gathering some of his things together, I think. I'm supposed to be finding him a suitcase. I thought it best to give him a few minutes."

Jane nodded. "Poor mite. He's holding up remarkably well."

"I don't think the reality has really sunk in yet," Harry reasoned. "I know it took me a while to accept it after – after my dad died."

"I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.

"Don't be," he replied quickly. "It was a long time ago and, you know, I still had my mum. Who's John got now?"

"He's got you."

Harry smiled but didn't say anything. They lapsed into silence for a moment, until Jane said, "Are you nervous?"

"Try terrified," he told her sincerely. "I don't know how to be a dad."

"You don't have to be a dad," she said. "You just have to be there for him. And from what I've already seen in the short time that you've known each other, it looks like you won't have any trouble with that."

Her words filled him with confidence. Of course he would be there for him, there was no question about that. "He's a great kid," he said.

Smiling, Jane said, "I know."

"I'd better go and see how he's getting on," Harry said with a sigh, getting to his feet. "It's getting late and he hasn't eaten yet."

He left the social worker in the kitchen and climbed the stairs, but instead of going into John's room he first opened the door to what he assumed was the master bedroom. To anyone else it might have felt strange, walking into a dead woman's bedroom, but after all the crime scenes that Harry had attended, it didn't faze him. He simply reached up and pulled a large suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and then left the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

John was sitting cross-legged on the floor when Harry returned, surrounding by neat piles of toys. A wooden train set, a pile of plastic dinosaurs, a bucket of Lego, a pile of Disney DVDs, his Nintendo DS console, an assortment of books, and a box with a few smaller bits and bobs in.

"Shall I get some of your clothes sorted?" Harry asked gently, crossing to the chest of drawers beside the wardrobe. On top of them lay a photo frame, face down upon the wooden surface. Frowning, Harry righted it again and sighed when he saw the picture. It was John and Kate Starling. A little boy and his mother, with large grins upon both of their faces. It was a gloriously sunny day and the penguins in the background suggested that they were in a zoo somewhere.

Turning round to face John, Harry held the picture in his hand. "Don't you want to bring this with you?" he asked quietly.

The little boy shook his head, looking dejectedly at the floor. Harry crossed the room, shifted the bucket of Lego and sank onto the carpet opposite him. "Why did you turn it over?" he said softly.

John shrugged, but then whispered, "It makes me too sad."

"I know," Harry sighed. "I know it does. But you're going to want to keep this, John. There's going to be a time when you're going to want nothing more than to look at a photo of your mum. I know there will be."

"How do you know?" John asked, picking at the sleeve of his top.

"Because I was only a few years older than you when my dad died," Harry confessed. John turned his head to look at him, clearly surprised at this unexpected piece of information. "And for a while I didn't want to see anything that reminded me of him. But then one day I just wanted to see his face again, even if it was only a photograph. So I pulled out every album that we had and spent all afternoon going through them with my mum. So trust me when I tell you to keep this."

John was silent for a moment, then took the photo frame in his small hand. He looked down at the picture and said, "Your daddy died?"

"Yes."

"My mummy _and_ my daddy have died. It's not fair," he mumbled, a tear trickling down his cheek.

"Come here," Harry sighed, and John got to his knees and crawled over to him, where the little boy then promptly climbed onto Harry's lap and curled up against him. It was very different to when they'd been sitting on the sofa in the lab just twenty-four hours previously. Rather than sobbing himself to the point of exhaustion, John was quieter this time, just a few tears slipping from the corner of his eyes. In many ways, Harry found it more heartbreaking.

**. . .**

Harry awoke with a start the next morning when he heard the TV in the lounge come to life. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, concentrating for a few moments on why his television would be on at six in the morning. Then the recollection of the last couple of days came flooding back to him. Yawning, he ran a hand through his messy hair and climbed out of bed. His bare feet were cold on the wooden floors of his bedroom, and despite it being summer he shivered slightly in his thin pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. It was darker than usual and when Harry opened his curtains he discovered why; the sky was a dark purple and rain was hammering against the window, practically torrential.

Pulling a face and turning his back to the weather, he left his bedroom and headed into the lounge. John was curled up at the end of the sofa in his long-sleeved navy pyjamas, which were covered in glow in the dark spaceships and stars.

"Did you sleep all right?" Harry asked as he sat down beside him, the cartoon on the television casting bright shapes on the walls. "I bet it was strange having such a big bed."

"It's good for making a den," the little boy said and Harry laughed.

They sat and watched the cartoon for a few minutes, until Harry said, "You need to decide what you want to do about school. I mean, today's Wednesday. Why don't you take the rest of this week off and then see how you're feeling on Monday? You've only got a few weeks left until the summer holidays anyway, haven't you?"

John nodded and then asked, "Does everyone know what's happened?"

"Your teachers will do, but they won't have told your classmates. That's up to you, if you want to tell anyone."

"I don't. I don't want to talk about it to anybody," he murmured.

"Well, like I said that's up to you," Harry told him. "But I think you should at least tell your best friend – Tommy, was it? Sometimes you might _need_ to talk about it."

"I can talk to you, can't I?" John said, looking up at Harry.

Harry smiled. "Of course you can. Right, what do you want for breakfast? I think I've got some Coco Pops somewhere. Only don't tell Nikki, she keeps telling me off for buying chocolate cereals."

Fifteen minutes later and John and Harry were still on the sofa in their pyjamas, only this time they had bowls of Coco Pops in their hands.

"So, what should we do today then?" Harry asked. He glanced out of the window before adding, "The weather's a bit rubbishy, I reckon we should just stay in."

"I don't mind," John said noncommittally.

Falling into silence again, it wasn't until Harry had finished his cereal that he gasped and said, "I've got an idea!" He took John's empty bowl out of his hands and put it on the coffee table along with his own and then led the way through to John's new bedroom. "We are going to build _the_ best den that you've ever seen. It's going to be spectacular!"

For the first time that morning, John smiled as he looked up at Harry.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, which is why it's taken me a little longer to upload it. But ho hum pig's bum. Never mind. I want to start writing the next couple of chapters, which will hopefully be infinitely better. :)<strong>

**Thank you sooooo much for the continued reviewing! If I could hunt you down and give each and everyone of you a hug without it being stalkerish and creepy, I totally would.**

**Charlotte  
>xxx <strong>


	6. Six

**Six**

_"This one's for the torn down, the experts at the fall; come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all."_

- 'Comes and Goes (in Waves)' by Greg Laswell

.

"Oh, wow," Harry said, stepping back and admiring their day's work. "John, this is the best den I have ever seen."

The little boy scrambled out and stood next to Harry, a large smile on his face. "It's a fort not a den, silly," he said happily.

Grinning, Harry observed the 'fort' that was now filling his spare bedroom. The double bed that John sleeps in was pushed against the wall, leaving a large open space in the middle of the room. One edge of a spare king size sheet had been pinned to the wall and the opposite side to the floor, creating a peculiar triangular shaped tent wide enough for at least three people. Harry and John had then spent all afternoon draping other sheets across the bare sides so that only a small gap for a door was left. Then, gathering all the unused cushions, pillows and blankets in the apartment, they had padded out the floor until it was deemed suitably comfortable. Harry had nearly pulled a muscle reaching into the very back of the cupboard to fish out some Christmas fairy lights which he fixed to the 'ceiling' of the den.

"It needs a flag," John said seriously.

"It does?"

"Of course! All forts need a flag and a sign on the outside which warns people to stay out."

Chuckling, Harry said, "Okay. Come on then, let's go and make a flag and a keep out sign."

It had turned out that besides a blue Biro and black permanent marker, Harry didn't have anything to make a flag and sign worthy of their spectacular fort. So, at five o'clock, they had jumped into the car and hurried into central London. An hour later and they returned back to Harry's apartment with felt tip pens, colouring pencils, glitter, coloured card, a bag of weird sparkly sequin things that Harry considered unnecessary but John deemed of utmost importance, and a bottle of PVA glue.

Sitting at the table, Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched John do the colouring in on their flag, his tongue sticking out slightly in his concentration. Building the den had proved a welcome distraction for the young boy, he knew that. There'd been a smile on his face almost all day, which was pretty exceptional considering what he'd been through. What worried Harry was the prospect of the next day, when there was nothing to take his mind off things. Or at night, when he let his guard down. Vowing to do his best to prevent anything hurting John, Harry turned back to the sign that he'd been adding glitter to and said, "Nearly done, Johnny boy?"

John nodded and held up the flag. It was triangular and consisted of a number of stripes, each one a different colour. Glued to the centre of the flag were drawings of what appeared to be the faces of Harry and John themselves, which the six-year-old had obviously drawn on another piece of paper and then cut out.

"That is really great," Harry nodded with a smile. "I love it, and it's going to look great on top of our fort."

"You need to shake the glitter off," John said, pointing at the sign which Harry had been given the task of decorating after the little boy had written their keep out message.

Standing it up onto the sheets of old newspaper that lined the table, Harry tapped off the glitter and then held it up. "Did I do a good enough job?" he asked jokingly.

"It's okay," John said seriously.

Harry gasped, mock-offended. "I slave away for hours and all you can say is that it's _'okay'_?"

The young boy merely giggled then jumped off of the chair. Harry followed him to the fort and pinned the flag against the wall at the top of the sloping sheet and used a safety pin to fasten the sign to the front.

"Finished," John grinned happily.

"Good," said Harry, "I'm starving. What do you want for dinner?"

"I'm not really hungry..."

"John," Harry said warningly. "You need to eat. Come on, let's go and see what we've got."

Not much, was the answer. Food shopping hadn't been high on Harry's list of priorities when he'd found out that John would be staying with him, so his kitchen was pitifully empty.

"I suppose we could go out," he suggested meekly. "Or order in. Do you like Chinese food?"

John shrugged and Harry sighed, however he was spared from thinking of something to do by a knock at the door.

"Wait here," he told the young boy as he crossed his apartment. Pulling open the front door, he smiled in relief as he saw who was stood on his doorstep.

"Hi," Nikki smiled. Hanging from each of her wrists were two large bags of what looked like groceries, and in her hands she held three takeaway pizza boxes. Walking past him into the apartment she said, "I guessed you might not have much in, you didn't the other day, so I got you a few things. And some pizza."

Amazed, Harry shut the door and followed her into the kitchen, where she deposited the pizzas and bags onto the side and smiled at John. "I got you plain old cheese and tomato, John, just to be on the safe side. But Harry's got pepperoni, I'm sure we can sneakily switch them if you fancy it?"

John pulled a face. "I don't like pepperoni. Cheese is my favourite."

"Oh, well then. I made a good choice," Nikki grinned.

"See, John," Harry said happily, "this is why we keep Nikki around."

Giggling, Nikki playfully nudged Harry in the ribs and said, "Someone has to make sure your sheer incompetence at anything domestic doesn't let you starve to death."

Slapping a hand to his chest, Harry said, "You know, words can hurt."

John laughed brightly as Harry and Nikki continued to banter until they were finally all sitting on the sofa, a Disney DVD of John's choosing on the TV.

"What did you put on?" Harry asked the young boy sitting next to him.

"Finding Nemo," John smiled. "It's the best film in the entire world ever."

From the armchair beside them, Nikki laughed. "Ooh, I love Finding Nemo."

Harry shrugged. "I've never seen it."

Two gobsmacked faces turned to look at him. Nikki said, "How can you never have seen Finding Nemo?"

"Well I've never really had much reason to watch kids' films before," he said, rolling his eyes as he flipped open the lid of his pizza box.

"But it's not just a children's film," she countered. "I love it."

"Yes, well. No accounting for taste," he mumbled, winking at her. She threw him a withering look and they settled into a comfortable silence.

Not that he'd admit it, but Harry quite enjoyed the film. Or perhaps it was sitting with Nikki and John and watching the film that he enjoyed the most. Either way, a small part of him was almost disappointed when the credits started rolling. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he said, "Come on, kiddo. Bedtime for you."

"But we haven't shown Nikki our fort yet!" the young boy protested, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Fort? What fort might this be?" Nikki asked curiously.

Getting to his feet at the same time as John, Harry said, "Right this way, Doctor Alexander."

He led the way to John's bedroom and opened the door. The rain from that morning still hadn't let up, meaning that the summer evening was shorter than usual and the bedroom was nearly in total darkness, besides the soft yellowy glow from the fairy lights inside the den.

"Oh my goodness," Nikki gasped as she entered the room behind John. Squinting slightly, she looked at the sign they had made that afternoon and read aloud, "'Only nice people aloud – no baddies'. Ha, I should get you to make me one of those for my front door, John."

"Do you want to come inside?" John asked quietly.

"Am I allowed? I'm not a baddie?" she smiled.

"Of course not! You're a goody, silly!" he told her, taking her hand and leading her into the fort.

Nikki shot Harry a grin as she passed and tugged on his arm. "You're a goody too," she told him.

All three of them piled into the construction of sheets and lay next to each other on the floor, the rather low ceilings making standing up somewhat difficult.

"This is incredible," Nikki muttered from Harry's right-hand side as she gazed up at the twinkling lights.

Turning his head ninety degrees to look at her, he said, "We spent absolutely all day doing it, didn't we, John?"

From Nikki's other side a small voice said, "Best day ever."

A lump formed in Harry's throat. After everything John had been through in just the past forty-eight hours, to say that he'd had a good day was quite an achievement. Harry knew exactly how it was to be so lost in darkness and despair that it seemed impossible that a 'good day' will every occur again. Yet here was John, six-years-old and orphaned, but happy because he'd spent the day building a fort with practically a stranger.

There was a flutter of fingertips against the back of Harry's hand before Nikki laced her fingers with his. He looked at her beside him and she smiled, a smile which clearly said that she knew exactly what he was thinking. He smiled back before sitting up and saying, "Right, little man. Now it really is bedtime."

However, when he glanced across at John he saw that he was fast asleep. Silently, Nikki grinned and tiptoed out of the den. Harry easily scooped John into his arms and carried him over to his bed, placing him down gently and tucking him in. Smoothing the young boy's blonde hair over his forehead, Harry whispered goodnight and then crept from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Back in the lounge Nikki was clearing up their pizza boxes. She straightened up and smiled when Harry entered.

"Out like a light," he said with a chuckle.

"He's so adorable," she replied. "He really is. You had a good day then, I take it?"

"I wanted to do something to take his mind off everything," Harry told her. "God knows what I'm going to do when tomorrow rolls around."

He collapsed into the sofa with a groan, closing his eyes and letting his head fall backwards. "How was work?" he mumbled as Nikki flopped down beside him.

"Same as ever," she shrugged. "We had a fairly quiet day. I'm hoping it will stay that way. It's supposed to be my day off tomorrow, but I've told Leo I'll go in if he needs me."

"Is he getting a temp in to cover for me?"

"I don't think so. I expect he will if we get really pushed to our limit, but like I said, things were quiet."

"Good," he replied. "I don't like the idea of some other guy replacing me."

In truth what he really didn't like was the idea of some guy getting to know Nikki, replacing him not just at work, but in Nikki's life. He knew it was stupid and that she'd never let it happen, but he also knew just how every man that crossed the threshold into the Lyell Centre instantly fell under her spell – excluding himself, of course.

Snorting, Nikki said, "As if that would ever happen."

She looked at him, and just for a moment he saw something in her eyes that she didn't often let him see. Something more vulnerable than her usual defensive mask. Something that terrified him. So he turned away, flicking on the television so that the background noise drove all deep thought from his head and said, "Yeah, you're right. Leo loves me far too much."

She giggled and the moment was broken. They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, at opposite ends of the sofa, until Harry sighed and said, "What am I supposed to do tomorrow? I can't let him sit at home all day. He needs to be distracted, or else the grief will become all consuming."

"Go out for the day," Nikki suggested. "Take him somewhere. I'll come with you, if you like?"

"No, I couldn't ask you to do that," he protested, but Nikki cut him off with a look.

"I want to, Harry," she told him firmly. "In fact, I can't think of anything I would rather do than spend the day with the pair of you."

There was startling sincerity in her voice and it brought a smile to his lips. Nodding, he said, "Okay then. Let's go out. Where?"

"London Zoo," she replied immediately. "I've never been and I've always wanted to. It's on the doorstep so it's not like it's a long way to travel, and I'm nearby just in case – God forbid – Leo should want me back at work."

Laughing now, Harry said, "Okay, London Zoo it is."

A few minutes passed before Nikki said, her tone quieter and more serious, "Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Can I ask ... why?"

He frowned. "Why what?"

"Why John?" she said softly. "I know he's a great kid, I'm not questioning that for a moment. But you've only known him for two days and you petitioned to get temporary custody? I mean, why this one boy? Why has John affected you so much?"

Harry thought for a moment, unsure himself of the answer. Eventually he said slowly, "When my dad died, I didn't have anyone. Yes, there was my mum, but she was grieving herself. She didn't have much time for me. I didn't have anyone to take my mind off things, to distract me from my grief. I don't hold it against her, of course I don't ... but looking back on it now, I realise that I probably could have handled things better, had I had someone to take me to zoos and build dens with."

Sliding across the sofa towards him, Nikki took his hand tightly and murmured, "I'm sorry."

"I guess," he added, lost in thought, "I guess I looked at John and saw ... me."

There was a sad expression on Nikki's face. Gently, she shifted even closer and leant against his side, her head on his chest and one arm draped across his stomach. He placed his own arm around her shoulders automatically, the position coming so easily to them both that it required no conscious thought. The comfort that her presence brought was immeasurable and he quickly found himself becoming drowsy, his eyelids getting heavy.

"Thank you for being here," he muttered.

Sleepily, Nikki inhaled deeply before whispering, "Always."

* * *

><p><strong>I know, I know. I suck at updating when I say I'm going to update. But you have no idea how close I came to making them kiss at the end of this chapter, and the furious internal debate I've been having for days over it. In the end I decided not to. It's just not the right time. ;)<strong>

**Thank you for all of the reviews, it means the world to me. :)**

**xxx**


	7. Seven

**Seven**

_"On comes the panic light, holding on with fingers and feelings alike."_

- 'Other Side of the World' by KT Tunstall

.

"Have you ever been here before, John?" Nikki asked the next morning as they walked into London Zoo, having just spent a lifetime queuing for tickets. They were buying in advance next time, Harry had decided.

John shook his head, anticipation shining in his blue eyes. "Have they got giraffes? And penguins? And rhi – rhinok – rhinoceroses," he asked eagerly, struggling slightly over the last word.

Laughing, Harry unfolded the map he had been given by the acne-ridden teenager who had sold them their tickets. "It looks like the aquarium is nearest, let's make that our first stop," he told them.

Reluctant to admit it though he was, Harry had a very enjoyable morning. John was entranced by the explosion of colour in the tropical fish tank in the aquarium, and practically begged Harry to let him get a piranha as a pet. Nikki walked around the reptile house clutching Harry's arm, giving the particularly large snakes a wide berth. They walked around the different monkey enclosures and laughed at how one of the gorillas scratching its head bore a remarkable resemblance to Leo. The three of them then admired some spectacular birds, from graceful eagles to scavenging vultures. By the time they flopped onto a bench on the picnic lawn, they were exhausted.

Extracting their packed lunches from his rucksack, Harry passed them around and eagerly ripped into his own packet of sandwiches.

"Will you slow down?" Nikki tutted as he took his third huge bite.

"'m'ungry," he said through a mouthful of food.

Throwing him a disgusted look, Nikki said, "You're revolting. You'll only get indigestion. Besides, you're setting a bad example."

Swallowing hard, Harry pulled a face behind Nikki's back, causing John to giggle.

They ate lunch happily, enjoying the warm sun and debating on where to go next. The general consensus was that 'Penguin Beach' should be the next port of call, although Nikki was adamant that afterwards they had to go to 'Butterfly Paradise'.

When John had noisily slurped every last drop of juice from his carton, he gestured to the large playground they were sitting in front of and said, "Can I go and play?"

"Of course you can. We'll come and get you in a few minutes."

He ran off and Harry watched him go, a smile on his face. Beside him, Nikki laughed slightly and said, "You wouldn't think that his mother had just died, would you?"

Harry's face fell. "He may look fine, but he's not. Look under the table."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, but Nikki did as she was told and glanced under the bench. A gasp escaped her and she straightened up again, looking at Harry concernedly. "He didn't eat any of his lunch?" she said worriedly.

"Oh, he ate some. He had to make it look convincing," he told her. He'd spotted John dropping bits of food onto the floor as soon as they'd begun to eat.

"What about breakfast? He'll get ill if he hasn't eaten all day."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "No, he ate his Weetos this morning. He couldn't not, with me sat right opposite him."

Nikki bit her lip anxiously. "You should talk to him."

"I have talked to him! I've done nothing but talk to him! He doesn't seem to want to talk to me."

Looking directly at him, Nikki said, "There is no one he trusts more than you at the moment, Harry. That's why you've got temporary custody of him. You're all he's got now. Perhaps you have to confront the issue, rather than trying to bury it under dens and days out."

"Don't you think that's what I've been trying to do?" he growled angrily. Nikki gave him a look that clearly said she wasn't about to get into an argument, so he sighed and added quietly, "It's just ... it's difficult, that's all."

"I know," she replied simply.

They sat in silence for a little while, Harry busying himself with putting all of their rubbish in a carrier bag ready to throw away once they got up.

"We should do this more often," Nikki said eventually.

"Not at what it bloody cost to get in, we're not," Harry replied dryly.

She giggled. "I said I would buy my own ticket!"

He brushed away her remark. "Don't be stupid. You can buy the ice creams later."

Smiling, she said, "Deal."

"Good. Right, I suppose we should get John."

The six-year-old absolutely adored the penguins, as Harry knew he would. He darted around the enclosure, trying to look at the birds from every angle, a happy grin on his face.

"They stink," Harry muttered, crinkling his nose as he and Nikki followed after John.

"They're penguins, what did you expect? Their diet is nothing but foul-smelling fish," Nikki remarked, rolling her eyes at Harry. "They are rather cute though. They remind me of you when you wear a tux."

Shooting her a sideways glance, Harry said, "You think I'm cute when I'm wearing my tuxedo?"

"I did not say that," she replied smoothly, although he didn't fail to notice the faint flush in her cheeks. "I merely suggested that you looked like a penguin."

Grinning, he said, "Oh, you just wait until we reach the hippos. It will be like looking in a mirror for you."

She slapped his arm playfully, but their banter was cut short when John came running back to them, nearly colliding with Harry's legs.

"Steady on, little man," he laughed. "Where's the fire?"

"I've found a penguin sitting on a fishy!" John exclaimed, his expression gleeful. "You have to come see!"

Forcing his way in between Harry and Nikki, he took one of their hands in each of his own and dragged them further around the enclosure. When John stopped he peered over the fence expectantly, but his face quickly fell as he said, "Ohhhh, it's gone now. But look, there's the fish! Urgh, I think the penguin pooed on it!" And he laughed as only a six-year-old boy could at such an occurrence.

Next they did indeed go to the butterfly house, where Nikki spent the whole time oohing and ahhing as if she were at a firework display, whilst giving them a continuous lecture about the different species, colour varieties and other equally tedious subjects that Harry zoned out of after a while.

When they were finally free they walked past the bright pink flamingos until they reached the bug house. John was equally fascinated and yet terrified by the range of creepy crawlies and was determined to look in every tank – that was until they overheard a zookeeper retelling a story of how a tarantula once escaped, and all three of them made a hasty exit.

The animals that Harry most enjoyed were the big cats. Their size took his breath away slightly, especially when the tiger stalked past and growled menacingly, displaying its rather fearsome teeth. The lions were more laidback in their enclosure, basking in the sun and occasionally twitching an ear.

A living rainforest exhibit grabbed their attention mid-afternoon, and they emerged after half an hour inside with John declaring that as soon as he was bigger he was going to live in the Amazon, and Harry declaring it was time Nikki bought them all that ice cream. After taking a quick look at the otters (whose smell rivalled that of the penguins), meerkats (who left John and Nikki in peals of giggles at their trademark yo-yoing of sitting up straight) and lemurs (who wouldn't stay still long enough to get a proper look at them), Nikki did indeed order three ice creams. They happily slurped them as they headed to the only corner of the zoo that they hadn't visited yet: the 'Africa' section.

Once again, this allowed Nikki to show off her supposedly vastly superior knowledge, this time on African animals, but rather than finding her boring, Harry and John were transfixed on her tales of how she and her parents were once harassed on a camping trip in the middle of the night by hyenas, and how they'd woken up the very next morning to see giraffes just a few metres away. It was nice, Harry considered, to hear her telling John these stories so happily, when he was used to tears and sadness accompanying tales of her past. He could still see the hint of regret and longing in her eyes, but the smile on her face more than cancelled it out.

It wasn't until just gone seven that they finally arrived back at Harry's apartment that evening, after being stuck in London rush hour traffic. John had fallen asleep in the car, his brand new toy penguin tucked under one arm and his small plastic piranha clutched in his hand. Harry had carried him inside and tucked him into bed, much as he had done the previous evening. When he emerged from the bedroom and back into the lounge, he could see Nikki waiting for him, ready to leave.

"Don't you want to stay for a glass of wine?" he asked her.

"I shouldn't," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm exhausted and I have to be up early for work tomorrow."

Harry grinned. "Ah yes. I forgot that you still had to work for a living."

"As do you," she retorted. "You're basically on paternity leave, Harry; you've not won the lottery and become a millionaire."

"Paternity leave?" he repeated with a laugh. "That sounds odd. Like I've got a wife somewhere who's just popped out a baby."

Nikki smiled tiredly. Walking towards him, she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and hugged him. "I had a brilliant day," she muttered.

"Me too," he smiled. "You were right, we will have to do it again."

"I'm always right," she said as she pulled away.

"No you're not," he countered jokily as she headed towards the front door.

"Harry?" she asked suddenly, turning around just before she reached it.

"Mm?"

Her eyes shining with uncertainty, she said, "You haven't forgotten that this whole thing with John is only temporary, have you?"

"What?"

"Well, it's just that you're talking about doing things again, and I know how much you love him. I would hate to see you get hurt..."

"What are you talking about?" he said brashly, but somehow he found that he was unable to meet her eyes. "Why on earth would I get hurt?"

"When they take John away," she said gently. "When Jane Campbell finds him a permanent pair of adoptive parents."

"Yeah, but that might be miles down the road yet," he pointed out, attempting to sound indifferent.

"It's still going to happen eventually. Besides, you can't stay off work forever. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of-"

"Yes, well I'm very aware, thank you," he said sharply, feeling his temper rising. It wasn't anger at Nikki, but fear of what she was saying.

"Don't, Harry. Don't shout at me," she said placatingly, one hand on the door latch now. "But perhaps it would be better to speak to Jane and see how her search is going. I mean, I love John to bits too, but it will only be harder for everybody the longer he stays."

And she left, letting the door close gently behind her. Harry sank onto the sofa and put his head in his hands. She was right. As she said, she was always bloody right. But the idea of John not being in his life anymore terrified him, as much as he was sure it must terrify John. Permanent adoption was out of the question, he had his job with its unpredictable hours and exhausting cases. Not only that, but there was no way he was cut out to be a father, however nice it was at the moment to have John around. Which only left him with one question:

What the hell was he going to do?

* * *

><p><strong>I don't think I've written this chapter particularly well, but hey ho. <strong>

**Also, it's basically 2000 words of promotion for London Zoo. ;)**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Charlotte  
>xxx<strong>


	8. Eight

**Eight**

_"Feeling the moment slip away; you're losing direction, you're losing faith."_

- 'Feeling a Moment' by Feeder

The rest of the week passed fairly uneventfully and before Harry knew it Monday morning had arrived, bringing with it a frantic last-minute rush to get John ready for school.

"Where the hell is your P.E. top?" Harry shouted as he rummaged through the chest of drawers in John's bedroom. "I swear I put it in here."

John appeared in the doorway, a toothbrush in his hand and white foam around his mouth. He was already in his school uniform, his smart grey trousers accompanied with a white long-sleeved shirt and dark green jumper. Wordlessly, he pointed into the lounge. Frowning, Harry halted his search and headed in the direction he was being told to go, sighing in relief when he saw the crisp white polo shirt neatly draped over the back of a chair. That would have been Nikki when she came round yesterday and had insisted on ironing all of John's school uniform, claiming that Harry wouldn't have been able to do it properly.

A few minutes later and John was standing by Harry's front door, ready to go.

"Right," Harry said briskly. "Rucksack?" He held out the bag so that John could slip it onto his back. "P.E. kit?" He hoisted the drawstring bag onto his own shoulder. "Lunch?" This time it was John who shook the lunch box in his hand. "Water bottle?"

"Yes," John sighed, pointing to his bottle in the side pocket of his rucksack. "Please can we go now?"

Bending down to his level so that he was looking the young boy in the eye, Harry said, "Are you sure you're ready for this? We can hold off for another few days if you want?"

John shook his head firmly. "I want to see my friends again. It's nearly the holidays and we always do fun stuff before the holidays."

Harry smiled. "But if at any point you want to come home, just ask your teacher to ring me and I'll come and get you, okay?"

Nodding, John smiled at Harry, who chuckled and straightened up, ruffling John's sandy hair.

"Let's go then."

Twenty minutes later and Harry pulled up outside John's school. They both climbed out of the car and entered the playground. There were a few looks and whispers from the parents and children as they walked past; clearly news travelled fast.

"Which one's your classroom?" Harry asked, and John led him around the side of the building to where a teacher was standing in front of an open door, letting her class inside.

"That's my teacher," John whispered, cringing slightly. "Miss Canning."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "Right, you go in. I just want to have a word with Miss Canning. Have a good day. I'll see you later."

John smiled and Harry held up his hand. With a slight roll of the eyes, John high-fived him before running into his classroom.

Miss Canning, a young woman with long dark hair and a kindly face, had obviously been watching their exchange it was she who approached Harry.

"You must be Harry Cunningham," she smiled, holding out her hand. "John's social worker told me about you. How is he?"

"He appears to be all right. Externally, anyway. Could you just keep an eye on him? Call me if there's any trouble?"

"Of course," she nodded. "Does the school have your number?"

"Yes, I spoke to them last week. They've got my home and mobile, and the number of a close friend if I'm unavailable for some reason. She'd happily pick him up if needs be," Harry told her.

"Well I'm sure he'll be fine. I'll keep an eye on him."

Smiling, Harry said, "Thanks. Sorry, I've got to dash."

He hastily headed back towards his car. In just over an hour he had a meeting with Jane and a lawyer about Kate Starling's will and they'd decided to meet at the lab for convenience sake. This meant he had to struggle across London in the rush hour traffic.

However, the journey didn't take half as long as he'd anticipated and he arrived at the Lyell Centre with thirty minutes to spare, much to his surprise. As he walked through the corridors towards the offices he realised just how much he'd missed this place. He hadn't even been absent for a week, but it was always this way. Buzzing himself through those frosted glass doors was a little like coming home.

"Harry!" Leo exclaimed, stepping out of his office. "What are you doing back?"

"I'm meeting Jane here soon to hear the last will and testament of John's mum," he explained. "But could I have a word first?"

"Of course," Leo nodded with a smile, stepping back to allow Harry into his office. "How's John doing?"

"He's all right, I think. I suppose you've heard everything from Nikki, anyway?"

"Most of the story, yes," he admitted. "But how was he about going back to school this morning?"

"He seemed quite eager to go, actually," Harry told him. "I spoke to his teacher; she seems okay. She said she'd watch him."

"Good," Leo said, then added, "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I want to come back to work," Harry blurted out.

Leo's eyebrows ascended an inch. "But I thought you were taking time off to spend with John?"

"I am," he replied quickly. "But I could work part-time while John's at school, couldn't I? I've been considering it for a few days now. I just miss this place so much, and I'll go out of my mind stuck at home on my own all day."

"And there was Nikki and I thinking we'd got rid of you forever," Leo winked.

"Is that a yes? And can I come back today?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I suppose so," his boss nodded. "It beats having a temp who doesn't know the ropes, and it will take some of the pressure off me and Nikki."

"Thanks, Leo," grinned Harry. "You're the best boss ever."

"You mean I'm too soft for my own good," Leo said dryly, shaking his head. "But it will be good to have you back. We've missed you, too."

"Where is Nikki, anyway?"

"Down in the cutting room looking at some bones."

Standing up, Harry said, "I'm going to go and tell her the good news."

Striding into the cutting room a couple of minutes later, Harry grinned as he saw Nikki working, her back to him as she hunched over the slab inspecting what Harry could quite clearly see was a skeleton.

"Zak, could you pass me the callipers?" she asked Harry, clearly thinking he was the otherwise absent lab assistant.

Grabbing the callipers on his way over, Harry stood behind her slightly and held them out. When she saw his hand she sighed and tutted.

"Oh, it's you," she said, taking the instrument and holding it against a femur.

"It's good to see you too," he retorted.

"Harry, I only saw you yesterday."

He shrugged and grinned at her so that she had no choice but to smile back.

"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had a meeting with Jane this morning?" she asked shrewdly.

"I do, she's meeting me here in about-" he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes. But there's another reason I'm here." Nikki was concentrating hard on the bones in front of her and either didn't hear him or chose to ignore. "Aren't you curious as to what reason number two is?"

"Is it to irritate me?" she sighed, picking up a magnifying glass.

"Don't be rude," Harry mock-admonished, poking her in the side. "I'm coming back to work."

This made her look up. Surprise written across her face, she said, "But what about John?"

Briefly, he explained the conversation he'd just had with Leo. Nikki still didn't look entirely convinced when he was finished.

"What?" he asked her, slightly exasperated.

"You know how much of our work we take home with us," she pointed out, "and you'll have even more if you're only going to be part-time. How are you going to manage to help John with his homework, cook his dinner, get him bathed and in bed _and_ do all your paperwork?"

"I'll manage, okay?" he said, irritated somewhat.

"Well, if you think you can..." she said quietly, turning her attention back to the bones in front of her. He didn't miss her patronising tone.

His good mood evaporated as quickly as it had arrived. Sighing, he turned his back to Nikki and walked from the room. He'd thought that she'd be pleased to have him back at work, even if it was only part-time. Leo was, so why wasn't she? "I don't know why I bother," he muttered as he neared the door.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she called after him. "Harry!"

But he ignored her and pushed the doors open, disappearing through them before she could so much as snap off a latex glove.

Anger bubbled in his stomach as he headed back towards the office, where he suspected that Jane and the solicitor were probably now waiting for him. The last thing he wanted to do now was have this meeting, but he knew that he needed to for John's sake. And no matter what Nikki or anyone else might think, the little boy was his top priority.

Sure enough, when Harry turned the corner he spotted Leo chatting to Jane and a tall, tedious-looking man in a sharp suit.

"Hi," Harry said as he approached.

"Hello," Jane smiled. "Harry, this is Humphrey Wilson."

Repressing an urge to laugh, Harry shook Wilson's hand and said, "Over there," as he gestured to the table at the side of the room.

Jane and Wilson did as they were told and walked over to the table, taking seats at one end. Harry made to follow them but Leo grabbed his arm and held him back. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Harry replied shortly.

"No you're not," Leo said, his eyes narrowing. "What happened with Nikki?"

"Nothing, Leo! I'm fine," he protested, tugging his arm from his boss's grip. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a meeting to go to with _Humphrey_."

Rolling his eyes, Leo went back to his office and Harry followed after Jane and the solicitor. He sat opposite where they were sitting side-by-side, and for a moment it felt like he was about to be interrogated by the two. After exchanging pleasantries and answering the usual questions regarding John, Harry said, "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Wilson cleared his throat and took a piece of paper out of his briefcase.

"Well," he said, in a monotonous, dull sort of voice, "As we know, John is Kate Starling's only living relative – besides an ancient great aunt in the Channel Islands who hasn't spoken to Ms. Starling for twenty-odd years – and therefore he is sole beneficiary."

"Right," Harry nodded, having already assumed this.

"Ms. Starling made this will shortly after her husband died, so it's fairly recent," Wilson went on, "and her finances are all in order-"

"Can we just get on with it?" Harry snapped, receiving startled looks. Sighing, he added, "Sorry. Please continue."

"John receives everything," the solicitor said bluntly. "All of Ms. Starling's savings, which is a rather considerable amount, are to go into an account for him to receive on his eighteenth birthday. A separate account has been established to fund his education, including the private secondary school she has already secured him a place at. Meanwhile, Ms. Starling's floristry business is to be sold, and all funds received from the sale are to go into John's savings account."

"What about her house?" Harry asked.

Wilson looked irritated by the second interruption, but he said, "Ms. Starling owned her house in Hampstead mortgage-free, and she has requested that the house isn't sold, but kept for John. The deeds will be put into his name for John to also receive when he turns eighteen."

They spent another twenty minutes discussing the technicalities behind everything, but Harry was pretty sure that Wilson was deliberately dragging it out just to get back at him for interrupting. Finally, what felt like years later, Harry was showing them out of the door. When he returned Leo was waiting for him, his arms folded tightly across his chest and a stern look upon his face.

"What?" Harry asked bitterly. "Are you going to tell me coming back to work is a bad idea, too?"

"What are you talking about?" Leo asked, looking bewildered. He unfolded his arms and handed Harry a small piece of paper. "I've got a case for you."

"Oh. Right." Sheepishly, Harry took the Post-It note and glanced at the address of the crime scene.

"Is that what you argued with Nikki about?" said Leo strategically.

"We didn't 'argue', exactly," Harry explained. "I just thought she'd be more ... understanding. It doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does matter," Leo contradicted. "You were in a great mood this morning, now you look as if someone's punched you."

For a moment Harry considered telling Leo all about it, about how Nikki's lack of faith in him had resulted in a sudden lack of faith in himself – but then the woman in question appeared in the doorway. So instead he simply muttered, "I'd better go," and turned his back on both of them.

* * *

><p><strong>A long overdue update, I know. And it's not the cheeriest of chapters. In fact, it's probably going to go downhill for a while now. ;)<strong>

**Hope everyone's getting on all right back at school/college/uni/work or whatever it happens to be now that summer is over. :)**

**Review?**

**Charlotte  
>xxx <strong>


	9. Nine

**Chapter Nine**

_"Dancing slowly in an empty room, can the lonely take the place of you?"_

- 'The Lonely' by Christina Perri

Harry's foul mood only worsened as the day progressed. The body he'd been summoned to had been washed up amongst the filthy, stinking sludge on the embankment of the Thames. He'd arrived back at the Lyell Centre caked in mud and silt, drenched by the cold rain that had been steadily falling since earlier that morning.

The post-mortem had gone smoothly enough; he'd quickly concluded suicide, to which the detective on the case was more than happy to accept, considering the deceased's history of mental illness and depression. It was a relatively easy case, but it had provided a welcome distraction.

It was over lunch that things took a turn for the worse. Sitting at his desk moodily picking at a BLT sandwich and typing up his report from the suicide, Harry didn't even notice Nikki walk in until he heard a high-pitched giggle. Looking up from his computer screen, he saw her on the other side of the room with her hands on the chest of some guy. He was about the same height as Harry, if not a little shorter, with sandy-coloured hair and an impeccably sharp suit. Frowning, Harry watched as this unknown guy ran a hand through Nikki's hair and gently kissed her. She was smiling. A bright, genuine smile. He felt a little jealous that this man had managed to get her to smile like that, when it was usually his fault that there was a grin on her lips.

There was another few minutes of giggling and whispering but eventually, after yet another kiss, Nikki's latest conquest left. She stared after him for a moment, the smile still fixed on her face, before turning and walking towards her desk. When she caught Harry staring, her smile vanished and her eyes darkened. "What?" she snapped, and it was clear that their earlier disagreement wasn't forgotten.

"Who was that?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't see that's any of your business, really," she said haughtily, sitting down and rummaging in a drawer at her desk.

Harry shrugged, but anger was pulsing through his veins. He wasn't even entirely sure why. "You don't normally bring your one-night-stands into work."

She froze and slowly looked up at him, her face thunderous. "How dare you! I'll have you know that Mark and I have been dating for just over a month now."

He feels a little as if someone has punched him in the stomach. Genuinely surprised, he forgot that he was supposed to be angry and said, "I didn't know that!"

"There are a lot of things you don't know, Harry," she muttered, focusing her attention on her computer screen.

Silence descends as Harry takes in this information. How could she have been seeing someone and he not know? They tell each other everything. Or, at least, he thought they did. Perhaps he'd been so wrapped up with John that it had simply slipped him by. Perhaps he hadn't been paying her as much attention as before.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he blurted out, unable to help himself.

Nikki looks a little surprised at his question. She glances at him, and if he's not much mistaken she looks a little uncomfortable. "I ... didn't see a reason to."

"Of course there's a reason to. I'm your best friend, aren't I?" he asks, slightly insecurely.

This time she puts her pen down before she answers him. "Of course you are. But I just thought that you'd rather not hear every sordid little detail about my sex life."

She was right, now that he thought about it. He didn't want to hear about her sex life. But how did she know that? He supposed that neither of them, really, were completely oblivious as to why. Not anymore. Not after ... everything.

Nikki must have taken his silence as a sign of his disapproval, for she suddenly burst out, "I don't have to tell you everything about my life, do I?"

The familiar sensation of anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach appeared again. "No, I suppose you don't," he said shortly, standing up and grabbing his sandwich. He suddenly found that it was very difficult to look at her without seeing her kissing 'Mark'.

"Where are you going now?" she called after him as he stormed off.

"I don't have to tell you everything, do I?" he snapped from the doorway, turning the corner before he could hear her reaction.

. . .

At three o'clock that afternoon Harry was walking into the playground of John's school. He was a few minutes early, having been desperate to leave the lab as soon as possible, but there were already quite a few parents milling around. Unsure about where to place himself, Harry stood at the edge of the playground opposite John's classroom, where a few mums had already gathered. As he checked the time on his phone, there was a clearing of the throat from his left-hand side. He looked up to see a woman smiling at him. She was quite short and rather plump, with curly brown hair. There was a pushchair in front of her with a young baby in it, about a year old, waving his arms and gurgling happy.

"Hi," she said with a warm smile. "I saw you this morning. Are you John's guardian?"

"Yes, I am," he nodded. "Harry Cunningham."

"I'm Jenny. My son, Tommy, is John's best friend," she told him.

"Ah yes," Harry said, recollecting his conversation with John at the hospital the night his mother had died.

"How's he doing?" Jenny asked, genuine concern written across her kindly face.

"He's doing the best he can, I think," he replied.

She shook her head sadly. "It's all so tragic. Kate was a lovely woman and a brilliant mother. I just feel so sorry for John. First his dad dies and then his mum..."

"I don't know how to talk to him about it," Harry blurted out, unsure why he was so able to confess this to a stranger. "I lost my dad when I was only a little older than John and I shut everyone out. I don't want John to do the same thing, but I don't know what to say to him."

Jenny smiled sympathetically. "I think that perhaps being there when he needs you is more important than talking. If he wants to open up to you, then he will."

Harry contemplated this for a moment. Then he said, "How many kids have you got?"

"Four," she said with a small laugh. "There's Tommy, then little Jack here – who's fourteen months, and I've got two at secondary school. Jamie, who's twelve and Harriet, who's fifteen."

"Blimey," Harry said, unable to help himself, just as a school bell rang in the distance.

Jenny laughed. "What about you? Got a wife? Kids of your own?"

He shook his head. "Nope. It's just me. And John now, of course, but that's not permanent." There was a slight twinge of sadness in his chest as he spoke.

She nodded understandingly and said, "How was it, becoming a father overnight?"

"I'm not his dad," he said quickly, more to himself than Jenny, then added, "But, it was a little strange... I'm not the best with kids."

At that moment classroom doors began to open and the kids began to pour out. A moment later and John appeared, side-by-side with a little boy that Harry assumed was Tommy. He spotted Harry and ran over to him, hugging him tightly. Laughing, Harry said, "Hey, little man. Good day?" John nodded as he pulled back and smiled up at him.

"It seems to me," said Jenny, who was now hooking Tommy's lunchbox onto the handle of the pushchair, "that you're a lot better with kids than you realise. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry smiled gratefully at her as she turned and made her way out of the playground, scolding Tommy for getting paint on the sleeve of his jumper.

"Come on then, you," Harry said, taking John's hand. They walked out of the school and around the corner to where he'd parked the car. Once they were sat down and strapped in, he said, "What did you get up to today then?"

"Not much," John said quietly. "It was raining so we had wet play and it was boring."

Harry smiled. "Did you have any good lessons?"

"Only art. All the others are boring too."

Laughing, Harry said, "A boring day all-round, then?"

Once they arrived home, Harry sat John down in front of the TV with a packet of crisps and went to his desk on the other side of the room to finish his report that he hadn't been able to complete earlier. It proved rather trying and he was still working on it an hour later. He swore under his breath as he realised that he'd put the wrong set of toxicology results into a table, hitting his backspace key ferociously.

"Harry?" John called, appearing at his elbow and holding up the box containing 'Hungry Hippos'. "Please can we play a game?"

"Not now, mate," Harry said apologetically. "I've just got to finish this. It shouldn't take me too much longer and then we'll play, I promise."

John nodded dejectedly, going back to the sofa. Sighing, Harry turned back to his laptop. He started typing again, finally realising just how he could word a paragraph he'd been struggling with for a while. He was halfway through a sentence when John arrived again, this time holding a different game. "Harry? What about Buckaroo? It's only a quick game," he said with a smile.

"I said later, John," Harry said impatiently, not removing his eyes from his computer screen. "Go and put a DVD on or something."

He rubbed his brow in frustration as he realised that the disruption had caused him to lose his train of thought. Desperately trying to remember what he had been planning on writing, he tapped his fingers on his desk and stared at the Word document on the screen.

"Harry?"

"I said later!" Harry snapped loudly and angrily, turning just in time to see the little boy drop a piece of paper to the floor and run off.

Sighing, angry at himself now, Harry bent down and picked up the paper. It was a painting that John had clearly done himself. In the centre of the picture were three people. A tall man which short, dark hair, a woman with blonde hair, and, in the middle of the two, a little boy with light brown hair that Harry knew was supposed to me a dark blonde colour. It didn't take a genius to work out who these three people were. At the side of the picture was an animal which vaguely resembled a giraffe. In the hands of the three figures were ice creams. Writing at the top of the paper said 'Harry Nikki and John at the zoo' in big letters. He thought about what Jenny said about being there for him.

Feeling a lump form in his throat, Harry saved his unfinished report and shut down his laptop before getting up from his desk and heading towards John's room.

Carefully sticking his head into the entrance of the den, Harry spotted John sitting in the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest, tears sliding down his face.

"John, I am so sorry," he said quietly, crawling into the den and sitting on the blankets beside the young boy. "I shouldn't have shouted at you. It was wrong of me."

John didn't say anything, but he didn't resist when Harry put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Before long he was sitting on Harry's lap with Harry's arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly.

"I've had a bad day and I shouldn't have taken it out on you," Harry muttered. "You know you're the most important thing in my life right now."

"Why did you have a bad day?" the little boy mumbled.

"I had a little argument with Nikki."

"Does that mean we're not going to see her again?" John gasped, genuinely horrified.

"No! Of course it doesn't! In fact, she's coming round for tea tomorrow," Harry lied wildly.

"She is?" he smiled happily.

"Yes, she is."

John said, "So you made up after you fell out?"

"Yes. Yes, we made up," Harry smiled. John hugged him happily, but Harry's smile faded. He and Nikki were far from 'made up', but there was no way he could let John down. He thought of the painting that John had done. Surely, once he explained things to Nikki, she would understand. Hell, it might even bring them together again.

* * *

><p><strong>Told you things were going to go downhill a little bit. ;)<strong>

**I have a very clear idea of how I'm going to end this now, by the way. It's definitely not going to be an exceptionally long fic with 50+ chapters. I'd say we were about half way through. **

**Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing! I really do love you all so much! *virtual hugs***

**Charlotte xxx**


	10. Ten

**Ten**

_"We were the kings and queens of promise; we were the victims of ourselves."_

- 'Kings and Queens' by 30 Seconds to Mars

When Harry arrived at work the next morning he immediately spotted Nikki sitting at her desk, hunched over a report and writing furiously. Every so often a blonde curl would fall over her face and she would tuck it behind her ear again impatiently. He fought the urge to smile and instead crossed over to his own desk. Once he was seated behind it, he said awkwardly, "Morning."

The pen stopped moving across the paper as she looked up at him. "Hello," she replied stiffly. They held each other's gaze just for a second before she turned back to her report.

Deciding to simply bite the bullet, Harry said, "Will you come over for dinner at mine tonight?"

Without even looking up, she said, "I can't, I'm going out with Mark."

A sudden swell of anger filled Harry's chest. It was like she didn't even care anymore. Unable to help himself, he said caustically, "You know, you can be as pissed off with me as you like. I get that and, quite frankly, I'm beyond caring. But you _cannot_ let John down. He has been dying to see you; he'll be devastated if you don't show up!"

Once again, the pen's journey across the paper ground to a halt. Her stormy eyes made contact with his. "I am not cancelling a reservation that has been planned for weeks just to fulfil one of your empty promises!"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "You'd be cancelling a reservation to make a recently orphaned little boy happy for a while!"

"You do not get to do this!" she said angrily, her report apparently forgotten about. "You do not get to guilt trip me, that's not fair! You know I love that little boy."

"You've got a funny way of showing it," he muttered.

"I'm not his mother, Harry!" she practically screamed. "And you're not his dad, either! Stop pretending that you are!" There was a painful silence, in which every nerve in Harry's body seemed to ache. Eventually, more calmly now, Nikki added, "I'll ring John later and say I'm sorry; but I am not cancelling a date just because you told him that I'd be there. Perhaps if you'd asked me first."

With a great sigh, Harry said, "Fine. Whatever. Do what you like, Nikki."

Fed up and angry, he grabbed a random folder from his desk and stormed away. Realising that he hadn't exactly thought this plan through, Harry pushed the door open to Leo's office and disappeared inside. It was absent, his boss obviously being out a scene or perhaps in the cutting room. Sinking down into the chair opposite Leo's seat, he ran a hand through his hair and glanced back out of the clear glass walls. He could still see Nikki, or her back, anyway. Her posture, the way she was slumped over her desk with her head resting on her hand as she wrote, suggested that perhaps she was more upset by their argument than she had let on.

Flicking through the case file to make it at least look as if he were working, Harry allowed his mind to drift. When had all this happened? One minute he was happy and visiting zoos, the next he was shouting at everybody, John included, and had quite possibly lost his best friend.

He chanced another look at her. She'd promised to be there for him through this. Support him as he found his feet with John. Well, unless he was very much mistaken, her attitude right now wasn't exactly what he would call supportive.

Leo appeared in the offices, standing slightly behind Nikki's desk. He spoke to her, something that Harry couldn't make out due to the fact that both of them had their back to him, but whatever it was caused Nikki to sigh and shake her head. Leo turned around, saw Harry in his office and headed over. Bracing himself, Harry felt the need to sit up a little straighter in the chair as Leo entered the room and shut the door behind him.

"Anything you want to tell me?" he asked shrewdly.

"What did Nikki say?"

"Nothing. Just that you had a disagreement."

Snorting, Harry said, "Yeah, that's one word for it. Two-day-long-blazing-row is another."

Sighing despairingly, Leo sat at his chair and leant his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his fingertips. "What happened, Harry?"

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his top.

"Clearly, it does," Leo corrected. "I'm not asking you to tell me because I'm being nosy. I'm asking you to tell me so that I can help you fix whatever has happened."

"You are?" Harry frowned, making eye contact with his boss for the first time.

"Yes," Leo nodded. "Look, you two and Janet are all I've got. You're my family. And after the year that we've all had ... I just think that you deserve to be happy, Harry."

A lump rose unbidden in Harry's throat. Although he knew that Leo cared about them, just as they cared about him, he'd never really been one to express it before. And suddenly Harry found that he wanted to tell Leo everything.

"It all started yesterday morning, when I told Nikki that I was going to be coming back to work. She insinuated that I wouldn't be able to cope; wouldn't be able to do everything. And then ... then I don't even know what happened. But we can't even be in the same room as each other anymore without arguing about something. If she'd rather be with her new _boyfriend_ that she didn't tell me about than John and myself ... Well, that's up to her, isn't?" he said angrily.

"Ah," Leo said, a small knowing smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, but it took a moment for that smile to disappear. Eventually he sobered up slightly and said, "Look, you've put Nikki in a difficult position. How do you think Mark's going to feel if she's spending all day every day with you and John?"

"You knew about Mark?" Harry interjected quickly.

"Yes, but that's neither here nor there. What I'm saying is, Nikki can't do everything. She already sacrificed her day off to go to the zoo with you the other day, didn't she? She's her own woman, Harry. She's not here to be at your constant beck-and-call."

"I know that," he said indignantly. "I don't expect her to be."

They fell into silence for a moment. Harry could feel Leo's eyes on him. After a minute or so, Leo said, "There's something else, isn't there? Something else bothering you?"

"What? No."

"Harry..."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "I shouted at John last night."

To his surprise, Leo chuckled. "Oh, Harry. All parents shout at their kids from time to time."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "This is different. He only wanted me to play a board game, but I was busy doing a report and got frustrated with him."

"It's understandable-"

"No, Leo! No it's not understandable!" he interrupted. "He's just lost his mother. All he wants is someone to comfort him and play board games with him – I'm supposed to be that person, but I completely lost it with him."

Leo remained silent, sensing that Harry had more to say, and sure enough, a second later, Harry added quietly, "What if I can't do both? Work and looking after John? Nikki's right, isn't she? I mean, it would be all right if I had some nine to five office job where everything was meaningless and easy and I didn't take work home with me, but I don't. I have this job."

"And this job is insane, I know," Leo nodded.

"How did you do it, Leo? How did you juggle work and a family?"

Leo was thoughtful for a moment and then he said, "Harry, you have to remember that it was different for me. I was still a trainee when Cassie was born. I was only just out of med school. I didn't have these hours or this job. But ... you just have to make time. You have to learn to prioritise and let some things go – but not the important things."

"I already have let things go. I'm already working part-time. What am I supposed to do, quit altogether?" he exclaimed.

"Is that what you want?"

"No," he said certainly. "Definitely not. I love this job; I can't imagine never coming back here again. It would be too..." he glanced over at Nikki quickly, "... too painful."

"For goodness sake, make things up with Nikki," Leo sighed wearily, as if it was a piece of advice he had given Harry just once too often. "I think you'll find that everything will fall into place when you do."

"I don't know how this time. It's different to the other times we've argued," he muttered dejectedly.

"Well, you're just going to have to," Leo said clearly, and it was such a clear end of conversation that Harry got to his feet.

"Thanks, Leo," he said as he reached the door.

"You're welcome," Leo smiled. "Oh, and Harry? She and Mark won't last."

Harry considered this for a moment and then said, "I don't know why that piece of information should affect me."

"Of course not. Silly me," Leo said, a twinkle in his eye as he opened up a case file on his desk.

**. . .**

Harry had been putting off making dinner for as long as he could. It was now six-thirty and, true to her word, Nikki hadn't shown up. John was happily colouring in at the table in the kitchen as Harry finally conceded defeat and began to chop up an onion for spaghetti Bolognese. He was hoping that John might have forgotten as he hadn't mentioned it all evening, but sure enough, when Harry set the table for two, the little boy said, "Don't forget you need a third bowl for Nikki too!"

Stopping what he was doing, Harry crouched down beside the table next to John and said, "I'm sorry, I don't think Nikki's coming."

The crestfallen expression on John's face was heartbreaking. "Doesn't she want to see us anymore?" he asked quietly.

"No!" Harry told him quickly. "Of course she still wants to see you! She told me that she wished she could be here tonight, but she already had plans to go out with a friend."

"Perhaps another day?" John asked sadly.

Harry smiled at his innocence, although inside he was seething. Hadn't Nikki told him that she'd call John to explain? It was still relatively early, but she knows Harry's evening routine now.

Pushing himself to his feet with a groan, Harry ruffled John's hair and crossed the kitchen to the stove to stir his sauce. Just as he was putting some spaghetti pasta into a large saucepan, there was a knock at the door.

He froze, and John looked up hopefully. "I'll get it!" the little boy said, slipping off the chair.

"No, no," Harry said. "You stay there."

The person on the other side of the door knocked again as Harry approached it and he instantly knew that it would be her. Sure enough, when he tugged open the door she was standing on the doorstep.

"I'm not too late, am I?" she said, her voice hard and cold, indicating that their argument was far from over.

"I suppose not," he said, as he took in her appearance. She was wearing a cream blouse underneath a black blazer, the sleeves of which were rolled up a couple of times, and dark skinny jeans. Her hair was down and immaculately curled. On her feet were a pair of black patent leather heels which were so high she was very nearly as tall as Harry. Clearly, she was dressed to go out.

"Can I come in then or what?" she asked.

He stepped back and said, "What about your _date_?" as she crossed the threshold.

"Mark got tied up at work – he's a surgeon – and he had to cancel. So I thought I'd come here instead," she shrugged, dropping her handbag in the hallway and kicking off her shoes. At that moment, before Harry could retort about how he shouldn't be a last resort, John came running into the hallway, a massive smile on his face.

"Nikki!" he cried, launching himself at her. "I knew you'd come."

Laughing, she hugged him back tightly and said, "Of course I came! I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You look very pretty," John said bashfully when he let Nikki go.

"Thank you," she smiled. "You look very handsome today too. Now tell me about your day at school."

Hand in hand they went off to the lounge, while Harry went to check on the spaghetti. How could she walk in and tell him that she only came because she had nothing else to do, and then blatantly lie to John and tell him that she wouldn't miss it for anything? And she was clearly still angry at him, too. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to have done, but he was quite pleased because it meant he could be angry at her as well without feeling guilty.

As they ate John managed to keep the conversation going by chattering away about school, and thankfully he didn't seem to notice that Nikki and Harry weren't actually directly talking to each other unless they had to, and even then it was with a high degree of reluctance and forced politeness. Afterwards, as Harry was doing to washing up, Nikki helped John get ready for bed. The little boy came running up to Harry after his bath, his pyjamas on now, and said, "Nikki said she'd read to me tonight, is that okay?"

"Of course," Harry nodded with a slightly strained smile. "Are you going to bed now then?"

John smiled and nodded so Harry bent down to give him a hug. "Goodnight, little man. See you in the morning."

"Night night," John said, before running back to his bedroom.

Harry was then left with nothing to do except wait, although he wasn't entirely sure what he was waiting for. Another argument? Because he didn't want to upset John. But he couldn't see them being civil to one another, either. They'd only been putting up with each other all evening for John's sake. It certainly hadn't been the most enjoyable meal Harry had ever eaten.

Finally, nearly an hour later, Harry heard the sound of John's bedroom door closing and Nikki tiptoed into the lounge. When she spotted Harry looking at her she said, "He's already asleep."

Harry nodded and Nikki headed into the hallway. He could hear the sound of her putting her shoes back on.

"Wait," he said, and he wasn't even aware that he'd been intending to say it until he did. "Wait!" he called again, louder this time. He pushed himself up from the sofa and jogged to the hallway, grabbing a piece of paper from the side on his way.

"What?" she asked exasperatedly.

"You can't just leave!" he exclaimed.

"Why, so I can hang around and we can have another argument?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I don't think so, Harry. I'm going home."

"He drew this yesterday!" he cried, brandishing John's painting of the three of them at her. "Look at it, Nikki! Look!"

Reluctantly, her gaze fell upon the picture. Immediately, her eyes filled with tears. "Harry..."

"Please stay," he murmured quietly, an sense of desperation evident in his voice.

"I can't," she whispered, and a tear dribbled down her pale cheek.

He stepped towards her, until he was so close that he could smell her shampoo and feel the soft skin of her arms against his. She did nothing other than gaze at him imploringly. He wasn't even sure what she wanted; hell, he wasn't even sure what _he_ wanted. Sliding his fingers down her wrists he laced his hands with her own, and then roughly pushed her up against the wall. A gasp escaped her lips as he pressed their hands to the wall either side of her head.

"Don't," he breathed, his voice shaking. They did nothing but look at each other for a moment, their eyes connected as if someone had frozen them in place, vivid green against deep brown. He could feel her breath tickling his neck and it caused goosebumps to erupt on his arms. Knowing that he was risking everything, yet at the same time not caring, he moved one hand from the wall and ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the trails from her earlier tears.

Nikki exhaled a trembling breath and he felt her shiver with his whole body. Physically, they had never been this close before. Not in this way. It was like all of a sudden nothing else mattered except that moment.

Of its own volition he was sure, his head drew closer to hers. He let his eyes close. Her lips were so close to his that he could almost feel them. This is it, he found himself thinking. This is it.

And then her phone rang. And it was as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over them both. The spell was broken, the magic gone. He'd missed his moment.

"Don't answer it," he muttered, almost pleadingly.

"I – I have to," she said shakily. "Harry, let me go."

Reluctantly, he released his grip on her arm and stepped back. She glanced at him and then pulled her phone from her pocket, looking at the screen and pressing the end call button.

"That was Mark..." she mumbled, more to herself than him.

"So why didn't you answer it?" He didn't mean to sound that accusatory, yet somehow that's how it came out.

"I don't ... I don't know. I should be – I need to go," she stuttered, and he noticed that she couldn't seem to look him in the eye.

"No, we need to talk!" he protested immediately, as she turned and placed a hand on the door.

"No we don't," she whispered, "because there's nothing to talk about. Nothing happened, and nothing has changed."

And she left, letting the door close sharply behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>A super-quick update because I had so many lovely LOVELY reviews for the last chapter. :)<strong>

**xxx**


	11. Eleven

**Eleven**

_"I'm in over my head, you got under my skin; I've got no strength at all, in the state that I'm in."_

- 'Too Lost In You' by Sugababes

Harry didn't sleep well that night. It was like his brain was too busy; there were too many thoughts running around his head to allow him to drop off. Eventually, when fatigue made these thoughts incomprehensible at about three in the morning, he managed to drift into a light doze, but he was still awake and waiting for his alarm to go off at six.

Swinging his legs out of bed, he sat on the edge and ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up more than it already was. He could hear John switch the television on in the lounge so knew that he could shower without having to worry about waking the little boy up.

He was absolutely dreading going to work. It was slightly comforting knowing that he'd only be there until three, but still. The prospect of spending a day in awkward silence with Nikki and facing uncomfortable questions from Leo wasn't appealing. Far from it. But he knew from past experience that running away wouldn't help, as tempting as that idea was. Anyway, he refused to give Nikki the satisfaction.

"Morning, kiddo," Harry said half an hour later when he walked into the kitchen, then stopped when he saw John on his knees on top of the worktop, clearly trying to reach the cereal cupboard. Sighing, Harry put an arm around John's middle and lifted him off. He didn't put him down, however, but instead kept him under his arm and pressed against his side as if he were holding a cardboard box.

"Now, where to put you," Harry said loudly, spinning back on forth on the spot on the pretence of looking around, so that John squealed and giggled.

"We could put you in the sink," he continued, violently turning to his right. "Or in the fridge..." He spun back again.

"Okay, okay!" John screamed, laughing as Harry finally stood him on his feet again.

"Don't climb on there again, okay?" Harry said more seriously. "You might fall and hurt yourself. Just call me next time."

Still grinning, John nodded before jumping into his chair at the table. "Coco Pops please," he said sweetly.

"Wouldn't that make a change," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

**. . .**

Once again, Harry was ambushed by Tommy's mum, Jenny, as he made to leave the school playground later that morning, having just dropped John off.

"How are you?" she asked him, as if she'd known him for twenty-four years rather than twenty-four hours.

"Fine," he lied.

"You look shattered," she commented. "It's just, I know what having kids can do to you."

"No, it's not that," Harry told her, shaking his head. "I had a tough day at work yesterday."

"Oh dear. Not what you need, I imagine," Jenny said sympathetically.

"Not really, no."

"I'll tell you what, why doesn't John come round ours for tea tonight? It'll give you a couple of hours' peace," she suggested. "In fact, it might do you both a lot of good."

"Are you sure?" he frowned.

"Of course! He comes round all the time. Or he used to come round all the time. Oh, you know what I mean," she smiled.

"Well if you're certain, then that would be great. What time do you want me to pick him up?"

"Anytime you like. Shall we say about seven and see how it goes?"

After giving Harry her address and exchanging phone numbers, Jenny bade him farewell and headed back to her car. She was right, Harry concluded as he turned in the opposite direction: it probably would do them both a lot of good. Some time with his best friend to just relax and have fun was exactly what John needed.

**. . .**

Harry was feeling slightly apprehensive as he walked into the Lyell Centre half an hour later. He wasn't entirely sure why; he knew Nikki wouldn't bring up what happened the previous night, and he certainly wasn't going to either, so there would be no awkward conversation. It would just be the same animosity meeting him this morning as there had been every time he'd spoken to her lately. But still, his stomach churned slightly as he buzzed himself into the office.

However, he needn't have worried because the place was deserted. Not even Zak could be seen. Concluding that everyone must be tied up on a case, Harry sank into his chair and switched on his computer, vowing to get that report finished.

Twenty or so minutes passed before Nikki appeared, but she hadn't been in the cutting room like he'd assumed.

"Good morning," she said brightly. "Leo's not around, is he? Thank goodness. I hadn't realised I was so late until I arrived."

Frowning at this rather different greeting than he'd expected, Harry said slowly, "Morning. And no, he's not."

She flopped into her own chair and smiled broadly at him. "I was having breakfast with Mark," she said, and suddenly Harry realised that perhaps this newfound friendliness wasn't entirely genuine. "Completely lost track of time."

"That's lovely," he muttered, turning back to his computer and typing the first thing that came into his head.

"Isn't it? Thanks for dinner last night, by the way. It was great," she said, and there was such a clear threat in her voice that what happened before she left was never to be mentioned again.

"Well, John enjoyed it and that's the main thing," he replied moodily.

"That's good. Right, I'd better get on with some work so that Leo doesn't feel the need to get out his cane," she grinned, then paused and added, "That sounded a lot dirtier than I intended."

Harry was unable to repress a snort and the small smile that crept onto his face. Yes, her behaviour was so out-of-character and so unexpected, but at the same time it was much more preferable to the arguing. So what if she refused to talk about the previous evening? She had been right, really. There was nothing to talk about. Nothing had happened.

Although ... something had triggered all the fake smiles this morning and her deliberate mention of Mark. Something had happened which caused her to feel the need to act as if _nothing_ had happened.

Feeling a headache coming on, Harry rubbed his palm across his forehead and pushed all thoughts of Nikki from his mind. He _will_ get this report finished, he told himself, if it's the last thing he does.

**. . .**

Nikki continued to be in an overly cheerful kind of mood all day. Leo even asked whether she was ill, to which she had laughed and insisted that she was just happy. However, when Harry had asked her, slightly awkwardly, whether she wanted to go to lunch with him and Leo, she had politely declined and skipped off to meet Mark.

Perhaps it was Mark making her like this, Harry pondered as he performed a post-mortem on a car crash victim that afternoon. Perhaps he just considered it out-of-character because he'd never seen a guy make her this happy. Usually she was at his place in tears before a relationship had progressed this far. But that was all different this time; after all, she hadn't even told Harry about Mark until twenty-four hours ago. What mystified Harry about this was that they'd still been friends a month ago, when she and Mark had started seeing each other. Why hadn't she told him then? What made this relationship so different? He felt a pang of guilt as he realised that a little part of him wanted her to turn up on his doorstep in tears.

"Shouldn't you be going to get John?" came Nikki's voice from behind him, snapping him out of his reverie. He turned to see her approaching, wearing her scrubs and tying her hair into a loose bun.

"He's at his friend's house for tea," he told her, turning back to the body in front of him, not missing Zak's awkward cough as he glanced at them both.

"Oh, I remember going round friends' houses for 'tea' when I was his age," she grinned, coming to a halt on the other side of the slab he was working on. "My best friend at the time, Melissa, had this swing set in her garden that was just-"

But she didn't get to finish her sentence, because with an angry flourish Harry had snapped off his gloves and flung them into a sink, before saying, "I'm done here, Zak, can you close him up?" and storming from the room.

He stopped in the locker room, knowing that Nikki would have followed him. Sure enough, a few seconds later she joined him, a frown on her face. "What's wrong?" she asked him abruptly. "Is it John? Do you not want him to be at this friend's house?"

"No, it's you!" he shouted, reluctant to get into another row, but unable to help it. "Stop being so bloody smiley and cheery!"

"Are you asking me to stop being happy?" she asked him, her eyebrows raised.

"No!" he burst out, then took a deep breath and said more calmly, "I'm asking you to stop pretending that nothing happened last night."

There was a silence more painful than any he had ever experienced. Nikki's eyes fell to the floor and she sighed quietly. "But nothing did happen last night," she said eventually.

"I know. I know it didn't. I don't mean that," he said wearily. "What I meant was – We almost kissed. And that's a big deal for us."

"No, it's not," she said, almost sadly. "I don't know why it happened. Perhaps we were just both so angry that it was the only way we could relieve the tension between us. Or maybe I was feeling guilty, I don't know..."

"Feeling guilty about what?" he frowned.

She sighed again, then laughed humourlessly. "Oh, so many things. Standing Mark up last night, nearly standing you and John up, arguing with you, telling you that you wouldn't be good enough for John... The list goes on."

"So, mainly about me then?" he pointed out and she smiled slightly.

"I suppose."

Replaying her words in his head, Harry frowned and said, "Hang on. What do you mean, standing Mark up? I thought he cancelled on you? Got tied up in surgery or something..."

Nikki shook her head. "I was on my way to the restaurant to meet him and ... I cancelled him. Told him that _I _was caught up at work."

In shock at this revelation, it took Harry a moment to regain the power of speech again. When he did he said, "But ... why?"

"Because I realised that I would rather be with you and John," she whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Harry sighed, realising that he'd jumped to all the wrong conclusions the previous evening. Swallowing his pride, he said, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's me that should be sorry. I shouldn't have said those things-" she countered quickly.

"We're both sorry," Harry amended. "Now can we please stop with all the fake cheeriness and go back to our usual, miserable selves?"

"With pleasure," she smiled, a genuine smile that he only realised in that moment just how much he'd missed. He outstretched his arms and she walked into them with a giggle, standing on tiptoes to loop her own around his neck and rest her cheek on his shoulder.

He held her against him tightly, relishing in the smell of her hair and the feeling of warm familiarity that was swiftly spreading through his body. "I missed you," he murmured.

"I know. I missed you too," she whispered, bunching up his scrub top in one of her fists, as if she never wanted to let him go again.

"Come with me to pick John up later," he suggested, and this time there was no hesitation before her answer.

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>I had to have them make up. It's so much easier to write when they're friends. But friends is all they will be from now on, I'm afraid. Well, for the foreseeable future, anyway. ;)<strong>

**Thank you so much for all the reviews. Each one makes me smile and keeps me writing. :)**

**Charlotte  
>xxx <strong>


	12. Twelve

**Twelve**

_"I'll make sure to keep my distance, say I love you when you're not listening."_

- 'Distance' by Christina Perri

.

It was a dreary morning, when Harry woke up early on Friday. Grey and overcast, with winds surprisingly cold for the time of year. If he was honest with himself, it reflected his mood perfectly. It was the day that he'd had been dreading for the past fortnight; in just a few short hours they would be burying Kate Starling, John's mother.

It wasn't that he was dreading it for himself; he was actually dreading it for John's sake. He had no idea how the little boy was going to handle it. He'd been so good recently, all things considered, and Harry was worried that this was just going to set him backwards.

But he himself had been in John's shoes, at the funeral of his own father, and he knew he would have regretted it forever if he'd taken his mother's advice and not attended. It was that one chance to say goodbye properly.

With a groan, he swung his legs out of bed and forced himself to his feet. Hanging on his wardrobe door was his black suit, a crisp white shirt and a black tie. It was depressing just to look at. Turning his back to it, he left his bedroom in his pyjamas and crossed the hall to John's room. Knocking gently, he pushed the door open. John's bed was deserted and for a moment Harry panicked, but then he saw the gentle rustle of movement in the den.

Heading across the room, he bent down on his hands and knees and stuck his head through the opening of the sheets. Curled up in the corner, his owl tucked under one arm and the toy penguin from the zoo in the other, sat John. He wasn't crying, yet he looked as if he wanted to. His face was pale, accentuating the dark shadows under his fearful eyes.

"Did you get any sleep?" Harry asked softly, crawling further into the den so that he was sitting opposite John. The little boy shook his head and didn't say anything. Placing his hand on John's knee, Harry said, "Come on, let's go and get some breakfast."

Neither of them had much of an appetite, however, and all they ended up doing was pushing Cornflakes moodily around their bowls. It was therefore somewhat of a relief when the doorbell rang just after eight, if a little unexpected.

Harry opened the door to discover Nikki on the doorstep, looking immaculate in a plain black shift dress with a long black cardigan to ward off the cold. She eyed his pyjamas disapprovingly.

"You look nice," he told her honestly.

"Hmm. Shame the same can't be said about you," she retorted, walking past him and into the kitchen. Harry smiled as he closed the door and headed after her.

"Why are you here so early?" he asked as she helped herself to the cereal that he'd not eaten.

"I couldn't sleep, and then Mark got called into the hospital anyway. So, I thought I'd come and see how the pair of you were getting on. I assumed you'd at least be dressed," she said.

"They're my Cornflakes you're eating," Harry pointed out. "And we were getting to that stage, weren't we, kiddo?"

John nodded, tentatively putting a spoonful of his own cereal into his mouth.

"How are you doing, John?" Nikki asked gently, but the boy did nothing but shrug. Catching Nikki's eye, she glanced at Harry worriedly and said, "A word?"

Harry led her out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom, closing the door softly behind them.

"He's been like that all morning," he sighed. "I haven't heard a peep out of him yet."

Nikki perched on the end of his unmade bed, biting her lip nervously. Her eyes never left the suit hanging on the wardrobe as she said, "Are you sure he should come?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed, sitting beside her. "If he doesn't then he won't have a chance to say goodbye properly, but if he does it might destroy him. He's written something to say during the service, as well."

"He has? I think he's a lot stronger than we give him credit for," she reasoned. "Any adult would have been in pieces these last couple of weeks, but he's been all right. Hasn't he?"

"I suppose..." Harry said thoughtfully. They lapsed into silence for a moment before he added, "Did you go to your mum's funeral?"

A small sigh escaped Nikki's lips. "Yes, I did. I can remember it as if it were yesterday."

"Same with me and my dad," he nodded. "I think I'd have regretted it if I hadn't had gone."

"So would I," she agreed. "I mean, it was horrible but ... it kind of lets you move on, doesn't it?"

"Exactly. I've asked John and he wants to go, so let's just let him."

Nodding, Nikki said, "What's he got to wear? Did you get him something smart?"

"He's got his very own tiny little suit," he smiled.

"If it weren't in such horrible circumstances I would be ecstatic about the level of cuteness that that's going to bring," she grinned.

"Don't I look cute in my suit?" he joked.

"That's not the word I would use," she laughed. "Talking of which, why don't you get dressed, and I'll get John ready?"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Can you ... can you talk to him?" Harry asked her. "He won't open up to me."

"I'll try my best," she smiled, leaving his bedroom.

**. . .**

The weather hadn't improved by the time they arrived at church just before ten, although mercifully it had stopped raining. There were very few people there; a few of Kate's friends, the three people who worked in the florist that she owned, and, of course, Harry, Nikki, Leo and Janet, who were only really there to support John, having never actually met Kate Starling. At least, not the living Kate Starling.

It was a small, moving service. Towards the end, the vicar called upon John to say the few words that he'd prepared. He'd spent most of the previous day working on this speech, and hadn't let anyone look at it since he'd finished.

Stumbling slightly, the little boy slowly climbed the three steps up towards the alter at the front of the church, facing the expectant, sad, silent faces gazing up at him. His own face paled and the piece of paper shook violently in his hands. He turned his terrified eyes towards Harry and looked at him with so much fear, so much helplessness, that Harry got to his feet and jogged up to stand beside him.

"I can't do it," John muttered, tears shining in his eyes.

Bending down to his level, Harry took his hands and said, "Yes, you can. Think of your mum."

They both glanced at the coffin behind them. "I want her back," John whispered, his lip trembling.

"I know you do," Harry murmured. "But use this opportunity now to tell her goodbye. Say what you would say if she were here. Do you think you can do that?"

Tremulously, John nodded, blinking hard.

"Good man," Harry said, smiling sadly and gently brushing the tears from John's face with his thumb. He straightened up and headed back to his seat, noting that there were many more handkerchiefs dabbing at faces now than there had been when he'd first stood up. Nikki was crying herself, and she took Harry's hand tightly when he sat down.

Gripping it back reassuringly, Harry faced the front. John was still shaking, but he looked more ready this time than he had before. Staring down at the crumpled sheet of paper in his hands, he spoke. Quietly at first, barely audible, but as he progressed and became more confident his voice increased in volume.

"My mummy was the best mummy anybody could ever wish for," he said, a tear sliding down his cheek. "She was funny and would cuddle me all the time, even if I didn't want her to. We used to do all kinds of great, fun things together. She used to take me bug-hunting in the woods, and one time we even found a millipede with hundreds and thousands of legs!" John smiled at the memory, but his face fell as he looked at the rest of what he'd written.

"When Dad didn't come back from the war," he continued quietly, "Mum told me that he'd gone to heaven and become a star in the sky to watch me at night-time and make sure I didn't have any bad dreams. Now Mummy's a star too and I know she'll be right next to Daddy near the moon somewhere. And I think I'm more lucky than all of my friends, because now I have _two_ whole stars to keep the bad dreams away.

"I really miss my mum but I know that she loved me and she knew that I loved her. And she always used to say to me that love is the most important thing in the whole entire world and universe. Well, most important after dinosaurs, of course."

There was a watery chuckle from the congregation. Harry wasn't surprised to find his own eyes smarting as John looked up at everybody briefly before jumping down the steps and darting back to his seat between Harry and Nikki.

"Did I do okay?" he asked apprehensively.

Tears were streaming down Nikki's face and she seemed unable to answer him. Clearing his throat, Harry said, "Do you know what? I bet your mum is _so_ proud of you."

The rest of the funeral passed fairly quickly. They all trudged outside to stand around the graveside, the steely grey skies making a rather appropriate backdrop as Kate's coffin was slowly lowered into the ground. John refused to let go of Harry's hand the entire time, but clung onto it as if desperate to make sure Harry didn't leave him too.

There was no reception afterwards; no one had really known Kate or each other well enough to host one. A lot of fuss was made surrounding John as people left, something which Harry guessed John could probably do without. So, making their excuses, Harry shepherded him back to the car. Nikki followed quickly, muttering, "Leo's got to drop Janet off at work then he's going to meet us back at the lab."

"Fancy coming to the lab, John?" Harry asked, looking at the quiet little boy in his rearview mirror. "Makes a change from my apartment and school."

John nodded, not once removing his gaze from outside the window in the direction of his mother's grave.

"Are you sure you're ready to go?" Nikki asked him, noticing where he was looking.

Once again, John nodded his confirmation. After exchanging a worried glance with Nikki, Harry started the engine and slowly pulled out of the car park.

**. . .**

It wasn't a particularly pleasant afternoon, just because of everybody's melancholic moods. Armed with some crayons and a colouring book, John spent the time drawing, refusing to eat lunch and not speaking to anyone.

A body had arrived for Harry shortly after four o'clock, so he'd left Nikki to watch over John and disappeared to the cutting room, where he was still working now, nearly ninety minutes later.

"Photograph please, Zak," he said, pointing to the suicide victim's cut wrists. "And I would quite like to be out of here before six, so make it snappy. No pun intended."

Zak shook his head despairingly, a slight smirk on his lips, but did as he was instructed, just as Leo walked into the room.

"Are you nearly finished?" he asked Harry.

"Nearly. Is John all right?"

"Yes, he's fine. Nikki's sitting with him, but he still won't talk to anyone," Leo told him, approaching Harry's side.

Sighing, Harry said, "I was worried the funeral was going to upset him like this. I shouldn't have let him go."

"Yes, you should," Leo said insistently. "You did the right thing, Harry. If you hadn't let him go, he would have hated you for it for the rest of his life."

"What does that matter?" Harry burst out, his fatigue getting the better of him. "I'm not going to be there for the rest of his life, am I? I've only got temporary custody. _Temporary_. Soon enough he'll be in some care home or foster placement, and then it will just be me again. Alone, with no comfort except knowing that I can go out and pick up women on a Friday night again! Because, after all, who wouldn't want my wonderful bachelor lifestyle? Everyone's jealous of my life, because kids only get in the way, don't they? Kids just stop you doing things, that's what all my married mates are always complaining about. They all _wish_ they were still single like me. Except they don't, do they? Ask any of them, they wouldn't swap their wife and kids for the world! And then there's me, stuck at this standstill; until a little boy who isn't even related to me literally crashes into my life, and suddenly I'm expected to act like his dad and be his dad. What the hell do I know about being a father?"

"Harry!"

Harry took a deep breath and then looked up. Leo was looking shocked, while an expression of mingled sympathy and amusement graced Zak's face. But it was Nikki who had called his name, and she was stood in the doorway glaring at him.

"You are so lucky I didn't bring John down here with me!" she hissed as she strode towards him. "How would he feel if he heard you saying those things?"

Already regretting having opened his mouth, Harry mumbled, "I don't need a lecture, Nikki."

"I would disagree!" Nikki exclaimed.

Turning to Leo, Harry said, "Can you finish up here?"

"Of course. Go."

He walked straight past Nikki as he entered the locker room, but she followed him determinedly, apparently furious.

"What is wrong with you?" she growled, just as he pulled his scrub top over his head.

"Nothing," he muttered, focusing his attention on the buttons of the shirt he had put on over his white t-shirt.

"Liar," she scoffed. "Something must have prompted that little outburst in there. It's not like you to go shouting at everyone, not unless something or someone has severely wound you up."

"It's not like that," he insisted, briefly disappearing around the corner towards the sinks to change from his scrub trousers to his jeans with a bit of privacy.

"So what is it like?" she called after him. "I'm not going to fall out with you again, Harry. I want to help you, but I can't do that if you won't talk to me!"

Jaw clenched, he rounded the corner again and said roughly, "I'm scared, all right?"

Immediately, Nikki's whole demeanour softened. "Scared of what?"

"I don't know," he confessed, and he sank, defeated, onto a bench. "Everything. Giving John up, mainly. I know I'm not his dad, but ... I feel like I am. And I know that's a ridiculous thing to say, seeing as I've only known him a little over two weeks-"

"It's not ridiculous," Nikki interrupted, sitting beside him and leaning the top of her arm against his. "I've never seen you with anyone like you are with John. You would be – you _are_ – an excellent father."

"Except I'm not a father at all," he sighed.

"Do you – do you want to adopt John? Permanently?" she asked, slightly apprehensively.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not going to pretend I haven't thought about it..."

"Well, it's a big decision and I guess there's no rush," Nikki reasoned.

"I'm just worried that I'd be doing it for all the wrong reasons," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"What do you mean?"

"It comes down to the whole bachelor thing again, doesn't it?" he tried to explain. "I don't want that life again. Leo has Janet, and you have _Mark _and I have ... no one."

"Why did you say Mark's name like that?" Nikki snapped suddenly.

"Like what?" he asked, unaware that he had done anything.

"Like you hate his guts," she said tensely.

"How could I hate him, I've never even spoken to the guy," he sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Exactly!"

He turned to face her and they did nothing but look at each other for a moment. They were both defensive and closed off, unreadable.

"What do you want, Harry?" she whispered.

Harry didn't answer, unable to put into words or even coherent thought what it was he really wanted. Eventually, when the silence and the staring became a little too much, he said, "What are you doing down here, anyway? Who's watching John?"

"A lab tech," she told him, apparently disappointed that he had broken the moment. "He's fine, don't worry. But he was asking for you."

Nodding, Harry got to his feet and made to leave the room. As he reached the door, Nikki called his name. He turned, slightly impatiently.

"What is it?" he prompted.

"You can't always get what you want," she muttered, and she looked at him so knowingly that he couldn't hold eye contact with her any longer.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so sorry for leaving it so long between updates! But I had trouble with this chapter; I actually wrote two different ones and then couldn't decide which one should go first. Then I couldn't find a way to fit in what I've been wanting to bring into the story for a few chapters now, so that will have to wait until next time. Le sigh.<strong>

**Don't worry, next chapter should be quicker, hopefully. **

**I hope it's okay... Let me know what you think. :)**

**xxxx**


	13. Thirteen

**Thirteen**

_"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, or the moment of truth in your lies."_

- 'Iris' by The Goo Goo Dolls

.

The day after the funeral brought with it yet more torrential rain. Harry had never been so relieved to get out of the car park and into the Lyell Centre than he was that morning.

Approaching his desk, he shook himself like a wet dog might, and dropped his rain-splattered briefcase onto the floor by his chair.

"Lovely day for it," he said sarcastically to Nikki, who was sitting at her own desk. She placed down her pen and giggled.

"Buy an umbrella," she told him.

"Well, I did see a lovely frilly pink one with a little handle that would fit nicely in my handbag – no, wait, that's _your_ umbrella. Nikki, I'm a man. Real men don't keep umbrellas about their person."

"Nonsense," she tutted. "But if you want to get wet, then that's up to you. Did John get off to school all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry nodded. "He's still not saying much, but that's to be expected, I suppose. He ate breakfast, which is an improvement."

"Good. I've been worried about him," Nikki smiled.

"You're not the only one."

They were talking as if nothing had been said between them the previous afternoon, as if they hadn't had that ... Wait, what had they had? It wasn't really an argument. It wasn't really anything monumentally important. It was just a moment where, for a split second, the defensive barriers had weakened and left them both feeling a little raw.

But it was good that they weren't mentioning it, Harry decided as he sat down. The last thing he wanted was to fall out again. Perhaps treading on eggshells around the elephant in the room was actually a necessity, rather than just an overused metaphor.

"Ah good, Harry you're here," said Leo, emerging from his office with a smile. "I've got a case, if you want it?"

"Yes," Harry said instantly. "What is it?"

"It's a bit of a peculiar one, actually," Leo frowned, glancing down at the slip of paper in his hand. "Death on the London Underground."

"That sounds like an Agatha Christie. Is the deceased on a train?"

"On the tracks."

"At a station?"

Leo shook his head. "Middle of a tunnel. Northbound of Oxford Circus, just before Regent's Park on the Bakerloo line."

"Blimey. I take it they've closed the line? That's going to be causing chaos," Harry said as he picked up his silver field kit.

"Yes, the DI on the phone didn't sound very happy. He rang me directly, he's an old friend," Leo told him, handing Harry the piece of paper.

"Why aren't you doing it then?" Nikki asked.

"Too busy, unfortunately," Leo said regretfully, then added, "Actually, Nikki, why don't you go too? I'm sure Harry could do with an extra pair of hands, especially now he's only working part time."

Five minutes later and they were both in Harry's car, shivering and damp. It wasn't a long drive to Regent Street, although it was difficult trying to actually get to the tube station when they did arrive. Police littered the area, trying to disperse the continuous crowd of confused people who couldn't understand why they were unable to descend into the station.

Harry and Nikki fought their way through the throng and eventually found the police cordon. A stressed-looking uniformed officer barely glanced at them as he said, "Sorry, sir, this station's closed. You're going to have to walk back to Oxford Circus and use either the Central or Victoria lines to get to where you need to-"

"Doctor Harry Cunningham, forensic pathologist," Harry interrupted, holding up his ID. "This is Nikki Alexander."

The policeman turned a furious shade of scarlet. "Oh, right. So sorry. Through you go."

Ducking under the tape, Harry and Nikki set off down the steps into Regent's Park tube station. They were met at the bottom by a harassed but kind looking detective, with greying hair and lines around his eyes.

"Detective Inspector Green," he said, "but you can call me Ian."

"Harry and Nikki," Harry smiled, jerking his thumb at himself and then the woman standing next to him.

"Nice to meet you. Come on, I'll show take you to the body. It's a bit mad down there, I'm afraid."

The three of them used the lift to get down to the platform. As the doors slid shut, Harry said, "I take it the station's been evacuated?"

"Yep. Much to everyone's disgust," Ian snorted.

"You're lucky it's not peak rush hour," Nikki said. "Imagine the chaos then."

"I don't want to," he shuddered.

With a ping, the lift doors opened. Through the stuffy tunnels they weaved until they reached the platform. It was so busy that for a moment Harry thought Green had been mistaken and forgotten to evacuate the place. But then he realised that most of the people milling around were police officers and London Underground staff in their bright orange vests.

"Bloody hell, it's like Piccadilly Circus in here," Harry commented, unable to help himself.

Nikki tutted reprovingly but Green laughed and said, "Try one more stop Southbound."

Before any of them could say anything else, an important looking man in a suit came striding over.

"Jerry Turner, Transport for London," he said gruffly, by way of introduction. "I need to get this line reopened. It's causing havoc. Having the Bakerloo line closed has knock-on effects for all the other lines, you know. It's the easiest route between the major rail stations, Paddington and Marylebone, and central London!"

"With all due respect, Mr Turner," Green said, although Harry suspected that he didn't entirely mean it. "There is a dead body down that tunnel who takes priority over your passenger quota."

And he walked straight past Jerry Turner before he could say anything else, signalling for Harry and Nikki to follow him.

All three of them slipped white coveralls over their clothes. Straightening up, Harry took a moment to observe his surroundings properly. SOCOs and police officers were venturing in and out of the tunnel, which had been dimly lit with dull yellow lights. Judging by the way they weren't particularly avoiding the rails, Harry presumed that the electricity that normally ran through them had been switched off.

"You'll need these," Green said, handing both Harry and Nikki a strap on head torch. "The lighting is crap down there."

Once they had securely fitted the torches around their heads and switched on the beams of bright light, they followed the detective to where there was a rather precarious metal ledge along the inside of the platform, presumably to ease access down onto the tracks. The two men jumped down and Harry held his hand out to Nikki as she followed. Before they could progress along the tracks, however, Green said, "Be careful where you put your feet. The rails aren't live anymore, but try and stick to the outer edges because there are plenty of things to trip over."

Harry was surprised at how suddenly it got dark as they entered the mouth of the tunnel. It was as if night had instantly fallen. Green had been right; the lights which were stuck to the walls and roof of the tunnel were useless and only seemed to accentuate shadows rather than illuminate the surroundings.

"Where's the body?" Nikki asked, stumbling slightly over a bunch of thick cables.

"Fifty meters further on," Green replied.

"Do you have any idea at all what might have happened?" she pressed. "Any witnesses?"

"Nope, none," sighed the detective. "All I know is that a tube driver thought he saw 'something funny' on the tracks this morning. He called it in and the station manager sent a workman down to have a look. That's when they found it."

Harry frowned. "I suppose he was going too fast to notice that it was a body..."

"Yeah, that and it's hardly recognisable," grimaced Green.

They rounded a bend in the tunnel and found themselves at the crime scene. Floodlights had been awkwardly perched around the tracks and SOCOs were already swabbing and photographing the area, leaving bright yellow numbered placards in a trail behind them.

The first thing that really hit Harry was the smell; the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh. Of course, his nose had become somewhat used to these sorts of smells by now, but that didn't mean that it was any less repugnant. Carefully, he and Nikki took opposite sides of the body, which had fallen down the narrow shaft between the two tracks, so that only an arm was sticking out over the edge. The whole body was so badly charred, it could easily have been mistaken for the victim of a fire.

"Woman," Nikki said, crouching down and using her gloved hands to examine the body. "I would estimate early-twenties, judging by the development of the pelvis."

"Her hand has been amputated," Harry pointed out, "It must have been hanging over the rail. A train came along and – slice."

Ian Green winced from beside him. "Did she get dragged along by a train, do you reckon? Might have been suicide."

Nodding, Harry said, "It's a possibility, certainly. But it looks to me like she was here before the train hit her. Nikki?"

Glancing up from her examination of the severed hand, Nikki said, "Oh, I agree. What happened to her hand could only really have happened if she was in situ. It's too clean a cut. If it had been torn off as she dragged under a train, the lacerations would be much more jagged."

"To be honest, if she was under a train a lot more would have been amputated than just her hand," Harry informed the detective.

They spent the next twenty minutes bagging and tagging before getting SOCOs to carry the victim and her hand out on a stretcher. Straightening up, Harry wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand and pulled at the unventilated suit he was wearing.

"Can we get out of here now?" he asked. "Preferably _before_ we all drop dead from heat exhaustion, because I don't think the SOCOs have got enough body bags."

They cautiously edged back along the tracks towards the platform, the bright lights making them wince when they reached it. The mass of people that had been milling around when they'd arrived had thinned considerably. One of the people who was still there, however, was Jerry Turner, who was barking orders at a young uniformed police officer, demanding that the crime scene be cleared and the line reopened.

"Oh, for goodness sake," Green growled. Turning to Harry and Nikki he said, "Shall I meet you at the Lyell Centre in about ... an hour? Let me sort this guy out."

Laughing, Harry said, "Sure."

Green flashed them a weary smile before heading over to Turner and saying, "Oi, shouting at the newbies is my job, not yours."

Harry and Nikki exited the station much easier than they had entered it and were quickly on their way back to the lab.

"Harry?" Nikki asked suddenly after a few minutes of silence.

"Mm?"

"Have you spoken to Niall lately?"

"Err, yeah. He rang me the other day. Recommended I watch some ghastly horror film or other, claiming that I would, and I quote, 'shit myself'. Apparently, that's supposed to be a good thing," he told her, as Nikki laughed. "Why?"

"No reason. I was just thinking about him earlier," she shrugged, but she wouldn't meet his eye.

Letting it go for fear of another disagreement, Harry decided to change the subject. "John's going to Tommy's house for tea again tonight. Want to come round and keep me company until he gets back?"

Biting her lip, Nikki told him quietly, "Mark's coming round at eight, I'm sorry."

Trying not to let his disappointment show, Harry shrugged and said, "That's all right. I'm picking John up at seven, I can just drop you home on the way back. Plenty of time to get yourself all tarted up before Mark turns up."

She slapped his arm playfully at his comment and said, "Fine. But no jibes about Mark."

"Would I?" Harry gasped in mock-offence.

"Yes, you would," she retorted, but her tone quickly became more serious as she added, "I'm happy with Mark, Harry. Don't you want me to be happy?"

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her. "More than anything," he muttered, and in that moment he _knew_ that meant that Mark was different, wasn't like the others, was in it for the long haul. And for some reason, it felt as if a little part of himself had crumbled away.

Smiling at him sadly, Nikki said, "You're my best friend, you know that right? No matter who or what may come between us."

He flashed her a smile in return, but found that it was more painful than expected, and disappeared rather quickly.

* * *

><p><strong>Quicker update this time! Thank you all so much for your reviews for chapter twelve, it means the world to me to know that you're still reading and (hopefully) enjoying it! :)<strong>

**Things might start to move a bit quicker in the next chapter... Also, this fic might not end in the way that you think it's going to. Not in every aspect, anyway. ;)**

**Charlotte xxx**


	14. Fourteen

**Fourteen**

_"God knows what is hiding in this world of little consequence, behind the tears, inside the lies, a thousand slowly dying sunsets."_

- 'People Help the People' by Birdy

**.**

Despite her insistence that everything was okay between them, things remained a little awkward between Harry and Nikki for the remainder of the day. True to her word, she had accompanied him home after work, but they had mostly spent the time discussing their case rather than anything particularly personal. Not that Harry was sure what they should have been talking about. There were so many topics that were off-limits when it came to Nikki; well, when it came to both of them really. Certain subjects of conversation that neither of them were willing to bring up. So Harry was somewhat relieved when it was time to go and fetch John from Tommy's house, just because driving in an uncomfortable silence seemed easier that sitting at home in one.

Jenny was as welcoming as ever when they arrived, inviting them both in for a coffee as they waited for John to get his things together.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't make the funeral," she said as they settled into the sofas in her large, toy-cluttered living room. "My mother is ill herself and I had to be with her."

Harry waved away her apology, watching as Nikki bent forward and pulled faces at Jenny's youngest, Jack, who was standing up using Nikki's knees as support.

"How's Tommy doing? He seems to be coping surprisingly well," she added.

Shrugging, Harry said, "I think he's okay. He's a little off his food ... bit quieter than usual."

"Children are so resilient," Nikki said, shaking her head gently. "If I think about how well I coped when my mum died when I was young, and how I would cope now... Well, I don't know if I would."

At that moment, a young girl bounded into the room, her bright eyes sparkling against her dark skin, her jet black braided hair flying around her face. "Mum? Mum? Chloe has invited me to sleep over at hers this weekend, can I go? Please?" she said in all of a rush.

Confused, Harry recalled Jenny telling him when they first met that she had a fifteen year old daughter, but this girl was clearly of African descent and, judging by the photograph on the windowsill, both Jenny and her husband were white.

"I don't know, Harriet. She's not going to be inviting a load of boys again, is she? Remember last time? A right fiasco, that was," Jenny frowned reprovingly.

"No, it's just me and her! Please, Mum?"

"I'll think about it," Jenny told her carefully, causing Harriet to sigh pointedly and storm from the room. Turning to Harry and Nikki, Jenny smiled and said, "Oh, the joys of having a teenage daughter."

"Um, do you mind me asking-" began Harry, but he was cut off by Jenny.

"We adopted her when she was just a baby. For a while we didn't think we could have children, so we went down the adoption route. Then, about a year after Harriet had been with us I fell pregnant with my next oldest, Jamie. Then Tommy and then little Jack. To be honest I think Steve – my husband – was more shocked than I was."

"What's it like, 'the adoption route'?" Harry asked. "Would you ever do it again?"

"Maybe," she nodded. "It's a lot of paperwork. You have people analysing you and watching you and visiting your house for months. It takes a lot of dedication and determination to see the process through, put it that way. It nearly split Steve and I up at one point. But it's worth it in the end... You know what? I think I would do it again."

They lapsed into silence for a moment and before Harry could ask anything else John came running into the room, Tommy hot on his heels. Both of them were laughing. Launching himself at Harry and Nikki, John hugged them both tightly.

"Hey, little man," Nikki chuckled. "Had a good evening?"

"Yep. We played on Tommy's PlayStation _Three_. It's awesome!" he gushed excitedly, while Tommy grinned broadly.

"Come on then, kiddo. Go and get your shoes on," Harry told him, causing the two young boys to run off again.

"Why do kids always run everywhere?" Nikki smiled as they got to their feet.

They followed the children into the hall and Jenny held the front door open for them.

"Thank you for having me," John said politely as he jumped off of the step.

"You're always welcome here, John," Jenny smiled.

"Yeah, thanks for having him," Harry nodded. "I really appreciate it. We'll have to arrange for Tommy to come round next week."

They said their goodbyes and climbed into the car. As soon as Harry began to pull out of the driveway John said, "Are you staying with us, Nikki?"

"Unfortunately not," Nikki said apologetically. "I'm meeting a friend soon. Perhaps another day."

Clearly disappointed, John nodded and fell silent.

It didn't take them long to arrive outside Nikki's apartment block. Killing the engine, Harry instructed John to stay in the car while he followed Nikki up to her front door.

"Have fun with your 'friend'," he said sarcastically as they reached the top step.

"Don't start," she warned him playfully, punching in the key code and opening the door, leaning against it as she turned to face Harry.

"I wasn't," he told her. "I genuinely meant it."

She looked unsure of whether to believe him or not, and instead decided to spontaneously lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked, shocked, as she pulled away.

Smiling, she did nothing but shrug at him. "See you tomorrow, Harry."

She disappeared before he could even respond, leaving him to walk back to the car slightly stunned. He glanced at John in the rear-view mirror as he sat down to see the little boy smirking slightly.

"What?" he asked, starting the car and driving away from the curb.

"Nothing," John said lightly, smiling as he turned his attention to out of the window. "I bet Nikki's 'friend' isn't as nice as you are though."

Momentarily lost for words, Harry scoffed and said, "You're too bloody smart for your own good sometimes, you know that?"

The only response Harry received was a quiet giggle from the back seat.

**. . .**

The rest of the evening passed fairly quickly. John was exhausted after running around at Tommy's house for the last few hours and so fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow at a little after eight-thirty. Harry sighed into the silence of his kitchen as he poured himself a glass of wine. Somehow over the past few weeks he'd forgotten what peace and quiet sounded like. It was almost a surprise to hear the clock ticking on the wall, or the gentle hum and swish of the tumble dryer as he did a colours wash for the millionth time that week. How such a small human being can create such a massive amount of washing, he'll never know. Not to mention eat him out of house and home. This week's food shopping total had come to nearly twice the amount that he normally paid. It was the packed lunches that did it.

Sipping at his wine, Harry leant against the worktop and waited for the tumble dryer to finish. He was just debating on whether to watch a film or get an early night for once when there was a knock at his door. Frowning, he glanced at the clock as he crossed the apartment. It wasn't exactly late, but he certainly wasn't expecting anyone.

He was surprised, therefore, to discover Nikki stood on his doorstep.

"What happened to your evening with Magical Mark?" he asked, stepping back to let her in.

She half-shrugged, heading straight into the lounge. "He got tied up in surgery again. It's fine, I'm a bit tired anyway, to be honest."

"And yet you still came here," he said as he retrieved his wine from the kitchen, grabbing the entire bottle and another glass while he was there and carrying them through to where Nikki was perched on the sofa.

"I wanted to talk to you," she told him as he sat beside her.

He uncorked the bottle and poured her a large glass of wine. "Sounds ominous."

Looking around, Nikki asked, "Is John in bed?"

"Sound asleep. Out like a light, bless him."

Taking a large gulp from the glass in her hand, she suddenly blurted, "What are you doing?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "I am sitting in my apartment watching you drink your wine too quickly. What are _you_ doing?"

"Harry..." She looked at him reproachfully, well aware that he knew exactly what she had meant. "I meant what are you doing with John?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm looking after him," he told her blankly, unsure of where she was going with this. And usually when he was unsure of where a conversation with Nikki was heading, it didn't tend to end well.

"I heard you at Jenny's tonight. Asking about adoption and what the process was like."

"So what if I was?" Harry asked, slightly affronted.

"You want to adopt him, don't you?" she said bluntly.

He hadn't even said those words to himself yet. Certainly, the idea had been playing on his mind for a while, but that's all it ever had been: an idea. To hear the word 'adoption' spoken out loud like that made it all quite real.

"Keep your voice down, will you?" he muttered, looking at his knees.

"Oh, Harry..." she sighed, hearing the confirmation in the subtext of his words.

"Is that such a crazy idea? To want to be a dad to him?" he asked her, turning his head sharply to meet her eyes.

Her gaze was full of apprehension. "I don't know, Harry. This isn't a decision you can take lightly or rush into."

"Yes, I know that," he snapped, perhaps a little harsher than intended. "Sorry. I've just been thinking about the future a lot lately, and I can't bear the thought of that poor, orphaned little boy being shoved into a care or foster home."

"I know you can't. Neither can I," she assured him. "That's the last thing any of us want. But have you really thought this through? What about work? You can't afford to keep working part-time. And then there are weekends and school holidays. What are you going to do with John then, while you're stuck at the Lyell Centre until some unearthly hour?"

"I don't know," he confessed. His job always had been the fly in the ointment, but Nikki was right; there was no way he could afford to stay at the hours he was currently working. And at the same time, there was no way he was quitting.

"Besides, what about when you meet the woman of your dreams and the two of you want to have kids of your own? Have you considered how John would take that? Or even how your future wife would handle it?" she pointed out, but this time Harry snorted derisively.

"I don't think that's a factor we have to value very highly, do you? As if that's ever going to happen."

Nikki shrugged again, and said, "Everything happens eventually, Harry."

They looked at each other and for a moment nothing else in the world seemed important, because she was looking at him and smiling and that made everything else melt away.

"I'm sorry your evening was ruined," he said, when the eye contact became a little too much.

The moment was broken as she looked away and refilled her glass. "It's not your fault. Mark's hours are even more unpredictable than ours."

"Still, I know you were looking forward to it," he smiled gently. "I'd like to meet him, you know. Mark. He may sound like a decent sort of bloke, but he's going to need my stamp of approval before I can allow him to get anywhere near you."

"It's a bit late for that," she giggled.

"Please, spare me the details," he mock-grimaced.

"Do you mean it, though?" she questioned, sobering up suddenly. "You really want to meet him?"

Harry nodded and said seriously, "You were right the other night: all I want is for you to be happy. And he makes you happy. Why shouldn't I like him?"

To his immense surprise, her eyes fill with tears.

"What's wrong?" he asks concernedly as she once again downs her glass of wine and refills it. The bottle's nearly empty now, yet he hasn't even finished his first glass.

"Maybe he doesn't make me as happy as I first thought," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the opposite wall. "Or maybe he does, but I don't make _him_ as happy as I should do. I don't know ... Perhaps I'm with him for the wrong reasons."

A flicker of hope ignites in his stomach that he rapidly attempts to extinguish. Now is not the time for that inappropriate relief that fills him every time she ends a relationship. Instead he asks, "Why are you with him?"

There's silence as she thinks about this, and still she seems to be able to look everywhere and anywhere except for at him.

"I think it's tempting to confuse need with love," she whispered eventually. "I've said those words before, you know. To a young man holding a gun to my head."

She must be referring to Neil and the university shooting, he concludes. The relevance, perhaps, isn't instantly obvious. But he understands her.

"You're worried that you want a relationship more than you actually want Mark himself," he said. It wasn't a question.

"I guess so," she sighed. "I really, _really_ like Mark. He's a great guy and he's perfect for me. So perfect that he even told me that he loved me on the phone earlier. And I wanted to say it back to him – with all of my heart I wanted to tell him that I loved him too ... but something stopped me."

For some unknown reason Harry felt a rush of something that closely resembled nerves. His tone hushed, he said, "What stopped you?"

Her dark brown eyes locked with his vivid green ones. The whole weight of the universe seemed to hang on what her next words were going to be. For a split-second, time stood completely still.

And then she looked down, reached for her glass and simply said, "I don't know."

Harry felt as if someone had punctured the balloon that had been swelling inside him. He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to say, or even what he'd _wanted_ her to say. But it didn't matter, not really. Everything was just the same as it always had been. And, after all, he never had liked change.

Leaning back against the sofa he sighed and said, "We're so screwed up, aren't we?"

Nikki was now banging on the bottom of the wine bottle, like you might with ketchup, trying to get the last few drops into her glass. "Yep," she replied shortly, then tutted and added, "Haven't you got anything stronger?"

Harry watched her head to the kitchen, worry etched into every line of his face. Normally she would never drink this much this quickly. A moment later and she returned with yet another bottle of wine. "Apparently," she said as she flopped back down to the sofa, "you have no decent alcohol left anymore."

"I didn't want it all around John," he explained. "It might give him the wrong impression."

"How very mature of you," she muttered, and he could hear the slur to her words.

Reaching forward, he grabbed her car keys from the coffee table and slipped them into his pocket.

"Hey!" she protested, reaching for his hand and missing him completely. "How am I supposed to get home now?"

"I am not letting you drive," he told her firmly. "I'd hate to go into work tomorrow and see you on the slab."

"Harry, I'm fine!" she protested.

"You've just finished one and a half bottles of wine in less than an hour!" he retorted. "That is the opposite of fine."

Shock spreads across Nikki's face as she looks at the bottles on the table and the glass in her hand. "Oh my god..." she mutters, placing the glass down and pushing it away from her. "I didn't even notice..."

Her eyes are shining with tears again and so he stands up, pulling her with him. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Now there's an offer," she mumbles with a watery chuckle, but follows him into his bedroom. She stands awkwardly at the end of the bed as he pulls a clean pair of his own pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt from the drawer and passes them to her.

"Here, have these. I'm going to go and get you a glass of water. I have a feeling you might need it in the morning," he tells her, unable to repress a grin.

The first thing he noticed upon entering the kitchen was that the tumble dryer had stopped whirring. He groaned inwardly; what with Nikki's unannounced arrival he had completely forgotten about the washing. Opening the machine door, he bundled the pile of clothes into a basket and then placed it on the worktop. He'd sort it out in the morning. It wasn't like they weren't dry.

Pouring that glass of water, he leant against the worktop for a few moments to allow Nikki time to change. Talk about déjà vu. It was like two hours ago all over again. He almost expected to hear the knock at the door.

She had been right about John though. Perhaps this weekend he'd give Jane the social worker a call, see what she thought on the whole matter. Someone needed to tell him what to do, because he sure as hell didn't know.

And there was Nikki and Mark ... He hadn't lied when he'd told her that he wanted her to be happy. But her happiness seemed rather questionable at the moment. And then there was the niggling sensation of jealousy that he could just _not_ shake off, no matter how hard he seemed to try.

But it was best not to dwell on all of that tonight, he decided. Tonight they both just needed to sleep. It would all seem better in the morning.

He took the water through to his bedroom. Nikki was curled up in his bed, already half-asleep. Smiling slightly, he placed the glass on the bedside table and gently ran a finger across Nikki's cheek. "'Night," he whispered, but as he made to move away her fingers closed tightly around his hand.

"Where are you going?" she asked drowsily.

"To sleep on the sofa, of course."

"Can you stay with me? Please?" she whispered, looking more awake this time and gazing at him beseechingly. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"If that's what you want," he nodded. "Just give me a minute to get changed."

Grabbing his own pyjamas, he disappeared into the bathroom and quickly put them on. It was a bit awkward, he thought to himself as he climbed into bed beside Nikki a couple of minutes later. He made sure to leave plenty of space between his body and hers, but he needn't have bothered because she scooted across the bed and hugged herself against him. As he wrapped his arms around her waist and she slung one over his stomach, he couldn't help but smile.

"I don't think Marvellous Mark would appreciate this if he were to walk in here right now," he commented quietly, unable to help himself.

"Can we not talk about Mark? Or anyone else, for that matter?" she mumbled, her lips dangerously close to the crook of your neck.

"Sorry," he said.

They lapsed into silence and Harry thought that Nikki had gone to sleep, until she suddenly said, "This is a bit different to the spare room that I'm used to."

"Well, you could always go and sleep in the den," he suggested jokingly, to which Nikki giggled softly.

"I don't think you should adopt John," she said, suddenly very serious. Harry found his stomach clenching.

"Why not?"

"I just think you'll regret it," she explained. "However, if you do want to go down that route, if you decide that it's definitely what you want to do – then I'll be right here, okay? Anything you ever need, I'm here for you."

Harry wasn't sure what to feel. There was a slight frown on his face as he pressed a kiss into Nikki's hair, silently thanking her for her support.

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered, and he could feel her eyes flutter shut against his shoulder.

"'Night, Nikki," he replied, but found himself far from sleep himself.

* * *

><p><strong>To everyone who has been waiting for this chapter for the past month, I am SO sorry it didn't appear sooner. University has been insane (talk about plunging us in at the deep end!) and so I haven't had nearly as much time as I would have liked for fanfiction writing. And then I didn't know what I wanted to do with this chapter, so even when I did have time I was at a loss for what to write. But, it's up now, even if it is super-long. I also know exactly how the next chapter is going to go, so that should be up fairly soon.<strong>

**Thank you sooooo much for the continued reviews! You guys are such amazing people and I really don't deserve you all. :)**

**Let me know that you haven't completely given up with this! **

**Charlotte xxx**


	15. Fifteen

**Fifteen**

_"There are no guarantees in life, not for the present, nor for the future."_

- 'Unlike Me' by Kate Havnevik

.

Of course, despite having Nikki in his bed and a hundred different thoughts on his mind, sleep had taken Harry eventually. Not for long though. Before he knew it consciousness was creeping once again into his brain, dragging his body back to reality and the problems it caused. Groaning quietly, he reluctantly opened his eyes.

It was only just five a.m., but sunlight was streaming through the small crack in the curtains, casting flecks of golden light across the ceiling he was staring up at. He could hear birdsong and the occasional car on the street below. It was a beautiful day. Rolling over onto his side to face the middle of the bed, he finally allowed his gaze to fall on the woman sleeping beside him. Lying on her back with her messy curls splayed across the pillow, she had one arm above her head and the other on top of the sheets between them. Her fingers were just millimetres from his own and he wondered if he'd fallen asleep holding her hand. He couldn't remember doing so, but then such an action came so naturally to the pair of them that most of the time it required no conscious thought. Her lips were parted slightly as she breathed deeply, and she looked so at peace with the world.

It was almost perfect, he thought bitterly. Waking up beside Nikki, little John across the hall, the sun shining and the birds singing. It was like a fairytale, something out of a movie. Except none of it was true, of course. In a few hours Nikki would be going home to her _boyfriend_, and John ... well, who knew how that was going to work out?

Nikki stirred sleepily, her head turning ninety degrees to face him. Blearily, she blinked a couple of times, squinting in the daylight. "Why are you awake?" she mumbled.

"Couldn't really sleep," he muttered. "Why are you?"

Her eyes were already closed as she replied, "I'm not." He smiled as her fingers found his, gripping his hand tightly. "Get another couple of hours' sleep, Harry. You need it," she murmured, breathing deeply as she drifted off again.

He supposed she was right. Well, he _knew_ she was right. But sleep was easier said than done, and so come seven-thirty, when the radio on his bedside alarm erupted into life, he was still wide awake.

The same definitely couldn't be said for Nikki though, who – now that she was fully awake – appeared to be feeling the effects of the previous evening's drinking.

"Oh my god," she moaned, burying her head under the pillow. "Turn out the lights."

Chuckling, Harry said, "I think you'll find that's a thing called daylight."

"Well you can at least get rid of that infernal racket," she muttered mutinously. Grinning, he flicked off the radio and silence fell.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her more seriously.

"Bloody wonderful," she said sarcastically, surfacing from under the pillows.

He gave her a sympathetic smile, but said, "That's not what I meant. Don't you remember what you were talking to me about last night?"

"Vaguely... Why, what did I do? I didn't embarrass myself, did I? Because you know you have to just ignore me once I've got red wine in my system," she told him sternly.

"No, you didn't embarrass yourself," he assured her. "Well, not too badly."

She groaned again, running a hand through her hair. "Where's my phone?" she asked suddenly, patting the bed around her as if expecting it to appear by her side. "I should text Mark, he'll only worry if he doesn't know where I am."

"It's on the coffee table, I think."

Nodding, she sighed loudly before climbing out of bed. As she stood up she looked down at the t-shirt and pyjama bottoms she was wearing and said, "I never thought the day would come when I'd be wearing your pyjamas."

He wasn't quite sure what to make of this statement. After a moment he said, "To be honest, I'd be more worried if _I_ was wearing _your_ pyjamas."

She giggled softly and left the bedroom. Exhaling deeply, Harry flopped back against the pillows.

.

A week passed fairly uneventfully, save for Leo dramatically falling into a huge pit of sloppy mud at a crime scene, which had provided a constant source of humour for all involved for days on end. John was still with Harry under temporary guardianship and Nikki was still with Mark, apparently freshly determined to make things work. She hadn't told her boyfriend about spending the night at Harry's house though, however innocent and platonic the event had been, which Harry had found curious. The mere fact that she was acting as if it was some kind of secret suggested that it hadn't quite been as innocent and platonic as she was making out. Which was nonsense, unless there was something she wasn't telling him. But he highly doubted that.

They'd managed to solve their case; find out what happened to the charred body in the Underground tunnel. After a thorough post-mortem, Harry had determined that the victim, twenty-four year old Joanna Kloves, had nothing physically wrong with her besides having an empty stomach and being slightly dehydrated. When they had put this with the CCTV footage of Joanna seemingly just falling onto the track in the empty station late one night, they had concluded that it had just been a horrible accident. More than likely, the heat of the underground combined with her skipping meals all day had caused her to collapse onto the tracks and get carried along with a train. It was tragic, but ultimately nobody's fault. The most surprising thing was why no one had spotted her sooner.

It was Friday evening and the lab was silent, save for the hum of computers and occasional beep of a machine. Harry was sitting at his desk hastily scrawling a report that Leo had demanded for first thing the next day. Once again, John was spending the evening at Tommy's. It was starting to become a regular thing, but Harry didn't mind at all. He knew that John enjoyed being there and it gave him a chance to do what he was doing now - catching up on work he should have done sooner.

Just as he was beginning to lose the will to live, the sound of high heels appeared in the distance, growing louder as the person approached. A moment later and Nikki appeared, flashing Harry a tired smile.

"I thought you'd gone home," he remarked, glancing at his watch. It was already seven-thirty.

She shook her head as she stopped by her desk and picked up her handbag. "I'm going now. I just wanted to take another look at Greg Niell's body before I left."

"The body you brought back from the lake?" he frowned and she nodded. "Something troubling you?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "I'm too tired to think straight, if I'm honest."

"Come on," Harry said, conceding defeat and turning off his computer. "I'll drive you home."

"You don't have to do that," she protested immediately.

"I don't mind. I have to pick John up from Jenny's anyway, which is on the way to yours," he reasoned as together they headed to the exit.

"Well I'm never going to turn down the chance to see John," she smiled, linking her arm through Harry's as he buzzed them through the frosted glass doors.

Half an hour later and they were standing on Jenny's front doorstep, the evening sun reflecting brightly off the windows. When Jenny opened the door she was as jovial as usual, insisting that they came in while waiting for the boys.

"There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about," she said as she carried two cups of tea into the lounge.

"Fire away," Harry smiled as he and Nikki accepted the steaming mugs.

"Are you planning on adopting John permanently?" she asked abruptly as she sat herself down.

Caught off-guard, Harry said, "I don't know yet. Why?"

"Well, my husband Steve and I were thinking - we'd quite like to adopt him. If you're not going to."

Harry gulped his tea and nearly choked. Spluttering, his throat burning and eyes streaming, he croaked, "What?"

Jenny looked suddenly nervous, and said, "We just think that it might be best for him. That he might be better off with us..."

Anger bubbled in the pit of Harry's stomach. "How would you know what's best for him?" he said through clenched teeth.

"He's best off with Harry," Nikki interjected. "He loves being with Harry!"

"I know he does," Jenny insisted. "I know. Please don't take this the wrong way..."

Scoffing incredulously, Harry said, "How do you expect me to take it?"

"He can get that family environment here-" Jenny attempted feebly, but he cut across her.

"I'm not interested," he said plainly, getting to his feet. Nikki followed him as he stormed into the hallway. "John!" he shouted up the stairs, "Come on, we're leaving!"

The little boy came running down, his best friend hot on his heels.

"Oh, does he have to go now?" Tommy complained.

"Yes, I'm afraid he does," Harry said, as calmly as possible. "Say goodbye Johnny."

John ran over to the doorway where Jenny was standing and threw his small arms around her middle. "Thanks for having me," he smiled, to which Jenny chuckled and said, "It was a pleasure."

Harry wasted no time saying goodbye himself, and was already sitting in the car by the time John had put his shoes on.

"What's the rush?" the young boy asked as he climbed into the back seat and Nikki got into the front.

"There isn't one," Harry muttered, ignoring the simultaneous winces from the other two as he pulled away from the kerb with rather unnecessary force.

He didn't speak as they drove, and paid no attention to Nikki's conversation with John. How dare that woman, whom he'd only known for a month, try and tell him what was best for John?

As he pulled up outside Nikki's and she'd said goodbye to the little boy in the back, she turned to Harry and muttered, "Can I have a word?"

"Nikki, I haven't got time for-" he began, but she interrupted him.

"A word, Harry. Now."

Sighing, he got out of the car and followed her onto the pavement. "What is it?"

"Don't drink," she blurted out.

"What?"

"Tonight, don't do any drinking. I know what you're like when you're angry, and you can't forget you have John now," she warned him quietly. "Don't do anything rash."

"I wouldn't be so stupid!" he said in a furious whisper. "You're not on her side, are you?"

Looking taken aback, Nikki stepped further away from the car and said, "You know I will always be on your side."

And suddenly all the fight left him. He shook his head and muttered, "She's not taking him away from me, Nikki. I won't let her."

Nikki sighed sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I know you won't."

* * *

><p><strong>We're kind of on the downhill slope now, so things should move a bit quicker. :)<strong>

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and not giving up on this! It means so much.**

**Charlotte xxx**


	16. Sixteen

**Sixteen**

_"__You believed in your fairytale endings,__  
>Now you find yourself down on your knees,<br>Like a rock that's been changed by the ocean,  
>Or a shipwreck lost out at sea."<em>

- 'Harder Than Easy' by Jack Savoretti

.

The next day was, if anything, even worse. Harry had awoken in a foul mood and remained that way for the entire morning, forcing a smile when dropping John off at school and snapping at everyone else. He'd been all right, really, until Jenny had tried to speak to him in the playground. Of course he'd walked away before she'd even had the chance to say anything other than call his name, but just seeing her again had reignited that burning anger in the pit of his stomach.

The Lyell Centre had been quiet all morning. Leo was out working on a case and Nikki had been conducting a post-mortem for a good two hours, only reappearing at lunchtime because Harry had sent her a text telling her that he had sandwiches.

"Sorry," he said as she sat down at her desk with a weary sigh, "They're only from the canteen but I couldn't be bothered to go out to Starbucks."

"That's all right," she smiled. "If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be eating lunch at all."

"I know you wouldn't, that's why I bought them."

Nikki's smile slipped into a frown as he quietly ate his lunch. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him closely. Eventually, when he could stand it no longer, he looked up and said, "What?"

"Are you okay?" she asked, her gaze sympathetic.

"No, of course I'm not bloody okay. How would you feel if someone told you that you were a crap parent?" he shot, a little harsher than intended.

"Okay. A, that would never happen because I don't plan on having children anytime soon; and B, that is _not_ what Jenny was trying to say."

"She wants to take him away from me, Nikki! How else am I supposed to interpret that?" he said bitterly. "Now, can we please talk about something else?"

It was obvious that Nikki wanted to discuss it further, but Harry glared at her until she sighed in resignation and said, "Fine."

"Good. How was your PM?"

"Oh, you know," she said lightly. "Somebody died, I had to cut them open. Same old, same old. Harry, I really think we _should_ talk about it."

"No, we shouldn't," he retorted through gritted teeth. Knowing that it would throw her, he said, "So, how are things with you and Mark?"

His assumption was correct, as Nikki's cheeks immediately flushed pink. "They're ... they're fine. Why do you ask?"

He jerked a shoulder in an attempt at a shrug. "Things are serious between you then? Do you think he's _the one_?"

This time Nikki's eyes fell away from his, her cheeks turning from pink to crimson as a tiny smile graced her lips and she murmured, "Perhaps."

She was happy, he could tell. For once in her life, the guy she's fallen for hasn't let her down. And seeing her happy makes him happy, so he's unable to fight the first real smile that has crept onto his face all day.

"That's good," he nodded, sincerely. "I'm happy for you."

She looked him in the eyes again. "Thank you."

Harry turned back to his sandwich but before he could take another bite the telephone - which, up until that moment, had remained mercifully silent all morning - began to ring. Groaning, he said, "Can't I even eat my lunch in peace?" He picked up the phone. "Harry Cunningham."

"Doctor Cunningham, there are two women here to see you but they don't have an appointment," came the gentle, quiet voice of Anna from reception. "Shall I send them up or tell them you're busy?"

Frowning, Harry said, "Who is it?"

"Claims her name is ... Jane Campbell. The other woman is Jenny Matthews. Do you know them?"

Not for the first time that day, Harry had to resist the urge to throw something. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth, "Yes, I know them."

"Okay..." Anna said slowly. "Well, do you want me to have them escorted up or out?"

Harry thought for a moment. He had half a mind to tell them both to go away – or words to that effect – and would have done had it just been Jenny. But there was no way he was going to give her any more reasons to try and take John away by being rude to the social worker who, ultimately, would make all the decisions.

"They can come up," he sighed eventually. "Thanks, Anna."

"You're welcome. They'll be with you in five."

He placed the phone back down and immediately Nikki said, "What is it? What's happened?"

"Jane is in reception. With _Jenny_," he growled.

Nikki's mouth formed a small 'O' shape. "What on earth does she want?"

"How am I supposed to know?" he snapped, getting to his feet and crossing the room to stand nearer the doors in anticipation.

Hurrying up to him, Nikki said, "You don't think she's told Jane that she wants to adopt John, do you?"

"Probably."

"But surely she wouldn't, not without speaking to you properly first?" she said, a panicked edge to her voice.

Harry sighed. "She tried. She tried to speak to me, didn't she? Last night, but I stormed out. And – and this morning. In the playground. But I refused to listen. I guess I gave her no other choice."

Nikki fell silent, and he knew that she was thinking the same thing as he was; that sometimes he really could be an idiot. But he'd seen no reason to listen to what she had to say. He still didn't.

A minute later, although it felt like hours, the outlines of Jenny and Jane appeared on the other side of the frosted glass. A security guard who had shown them up buzzed the doors open for them and they walked through.

He tried to tell himself to stay calm, that losing his temper certainly wasn't going to help him, but just the sight of Jenny again sent frustration coursing through his veins.

"What have you done, told social services I'm unfit to look after John now?" he hissed angrily as they approached him.

"No!" Jenny said instantly, genuine pain on her face, "No, I just wanted us to talk."

"Hello again, Doctor Cunningham," Jane smiled. "We're just here to chat, I promise."

Harry glared mutinously at them, so it was Nikki who stepped forward and said, "You can call him Harry. And let's go and take a seat over there at the table."

Jenny and Jane headed to where she was pointing, while Nikki grabbed Harry's sleeve and dragged him over there too, muttering in his ear, "Will you get a grip?"

She was right, of course. He did need to get a grip. But the only reason he was acting so hostile, the only reason he _ever_ acted so hostile, was because he was scared. Terrified, really. Terrified that he was going to lose John, when he'd only just found him.

"Right," Jane said in a businesslike manner, as Harry and Nikki sat opposite her and Jenny. "Mrs Matthews phoned me this morning to talk about John. She told me that she wanted to adopt him herself."

"Take him away from me, in other words," Harry grumbled.

"No!" Jenny repeated. "Please, Harry, you have to understand that I truly believe you've been an excellent father figure for John!"

"So why do you want to take him away? Why can't you just leave him with me?" he asked, a hint of desperation evident in his voice.

"Jenny believes," Jane said, "that she can give John that stable, family environment to grow up in. He'd be surrounded by brothers and sisters, have a mother figure _and_ a father figure. She and Mr Matthews have adopted before and therefore the process would be a lot smoother..."

"Yes," Jenny continued, hastily nodding her head. "Plus I'm a full-time housewife so I'm always at home, always around should the school have an inset day, or should John need picking up ill, or anything like that. I know how unpredictable your working hours are."

"I'm managing at the moment, aren't I?" Harry pointed out.

This time it was Nikki who spoke. "Yes, but Harry, you said yourself that you couldn't afford to keep working part-time forever. And besides, I don't know if Leo would let you. He needs three full-time pathologists for this department to run smoothly."

Great, now even Nikki was on their side. This was not turning out the way he had hoped.

"You've done a brilliant job, Harry," Jane said gently. "You know as well as I do just how attached John is to you. You were there for him when no one else was, and for that he'll always love you. But you were never meant to be a permanent solution. Surely you want what's best for him?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, isn't Jenny what's best for him?"

He fell silent for a moment before looking directly at Jenny and saying, "I can't imagine my life without him in it anymore. I love him as if he were my own. I know it's only been just over a month, but I do."

She smiled sadly. "I know," she nodded. "And I'm not asking you to get out of his life completely. John wouldn't want that either. You can visit all the time, and he can stay with you sometimes, during the holidays or the occasional weekend. I'm sure if you had a day off he can go back to yours from school for the evening. I'm telling you that you can still be a part of his life."

Harry sighed deeply, running a hand over his face. He didn't know what to do. This was all such a mess. His life had been so simple before he'd attended that fateful crime scene. The only person he'd had to worry about before was himself – and occasionally Nikki – but any chance to be selfish had disintegrated when John entered his life.

Or had it? Wasn't what he was doing right now being selfish? Only worrying about how _he_ would feel if John went to live with Jenny and Tommy and the rest of their family?

With that in mind he looked up again to find three people watching him, hanging on his answer. "I don't know," he confessed, truthfully. "I need to talk to John first, before I make any decisions."

"That's perfectly understandable," Jane said, whilst Jenny nodded. "To be honest I didn't expect anything less from you, Harry."

All four of them got to their feet. As she gathered her briefcase and handbag, Jane added, "Just give me a call sometime in the next few days. When you're ready."

"And," Jenny said, "as usual, if you need anything you know where I am."

Harry nodded shortly as Nikki showed the two women back out. When she reappeared a moment later she sighed sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"For what, not having my back?" he snapped. "Not fighting my corner with me? Sorry for betraying me when you said just last night that you would always be on my side?"

Nikki's eyes darkened and her expression hardened as she shook her head at him. "Don't be angry at me, Harry, not when you know you're just angry at yourself."

She walked away, leaving him standing by the table alone. He was about to go after her and apologise, but the doors buzzed again and Leo entered. He headed to his office, silver field kit in hand, but when he saw Harry he backtracked and slowly approached him.

"Was that the social worker I just saw leaving?" he asked. Harry nodded and Leo added, "Everything okay?"

"No."

Leo observed him for a moment before saying, "Come and tell me what's happened."

And so Harry followed him into his office, sat down, and told him all of it. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. He told him of Jenny's plan. He told him how he didn't want John to leave, but at the same time he only wanted what was best for the young boy. He told him of the worries that had been plaguing him for weeks, worries about work and school holidays, and how he was going to be able to afford everything.

Leo listened patiently and didn't interrupt once, allowing Harry to vent his frustration freely, something he hadn't been able to do up until then. When he was finished he took a deep breath, visibly slumping down in the chair. "I don't know what to do, Leo. Tell me what to do," he pleaded desperately.

There was sympathy in Leo's eyes too, but it was different to the way Nikki and the others had looked at him. Where they were more pitying, Leo was more understanding.

"Come on, Harry," he said carefully. "You've known since the beginning exactly what you have to do. You just don't want to do it."

And, of course, he was right.

* * *

><p><strong>I love how into this you're all getting! It's great. Your reviews are amazing, thank you so much. :)<strong>

**By the way, I've known _exactly _how this fic was going to turn out since the moment I started writing it and as much as I may want to change my mind about how it's going to end, I'm not going to. When I said only ONE aspect (Harry/Nikki OR Harry/John) will be resolved in the way that you want it to be, I wasn't lying. ;)**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**Charlotte x**


	17. Seventeen

**Seventeen**

_"I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart,  
><em>_'cause I like to keep my issues strong, it's always darkest before the dawn."_

- 'Shake It Out' by Florence + the Machine

**.**

Harry was considerably more subdued following his meeting with Jenny and Jane. Leo had left him alone and he hadn't seen Nikki all afternoon, whether because she was working or avoiding him he didn't know. To be honest, it wasn't high on his list of priorities. He had more pressing things to be getting on with now, he could speak to Nikki tomorrow.

He saw Jenny in the playground when he went to pick John up, but rather than ignore her he gave her a curt nod and continued walking. He wasn't in the mood for another discussion. Thankfully, she just smiled at him and remained silent herself.

It was difficult to remember that he wasn't allowed to sulk now that he had John with him. The little boy was chatting animatedly about his day and if Harry didn't reply with the same amount of enthusiasm then John might misinterpret Harry's mood as directed at him. So as he drove home he forced a smile, discussed the Romans, asked how John's spelling test went and put the radio on to cover any lapses in conversation.

"What are we having for tea?" John asked as soon as they arrived back at Harry's apartment, kicking his shoes off and launching himself onto the sofa.

"I have no idea, yet," Harry admitted. "I haven't really thought about it. Pasta?"

John pulled a face. "Boring."

"Well, I don't think we've got much else..."

"Can't Nikki come and cook? She always makes yummy food," he grinned.

"Not tonight, kiddo," Harry said apologetically. "She's busy, I think."

"Oh. Maybe tomorrow then?"

Unable to say anything that might wipe the smile from John's face, he said, "Maybe."

"Can we watch _Finding Nemo_ before tea? Me and my friends were talking about it at school today and it really made me want to watch it," the young boy said excitedly, grabbing the DVD case from beside the television.

"We have seen this film one hundred times," Harry pointed out, but he was grinning as he sat down beside John.

"Because it's the bestest film ever!"

About an hour into the movie Harry realised that he couldn't wait any longer to talk to John. He felt almost deceitful, keeping it from him. Anyway, until he'd spoken to him he couldn't make a definite decision for himself, either. Pressing pause on the remote control and ignoring the little boy's subsequent protests, he shifted around on the sofa and said, "We need to talk about something, okay? Something important. So I need you to listen, and I need you to be one hundred percent honest. Even if you're worried you might hurt my feelings, I just need you to tell the truth. Can you do that?"

John looked slightly nervous, but nodded anyway.

"Good," Harry said, trying to smile. "Okay, here's the thing ... How would you feel about going to live – permanently – with Tommy and his family?"

The silence that followed this question was the most heartbreaking silence Harry had ever experienced. He watched as John's round, wide, blue eyes filled with tears.

"John, I'm sorry-" he began, but the little boy slipped off the sofa and ran from the room. A moment later Harry heard his bedroom door slam closed.

Leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees, Harry rested his head in his hands and sighed deeply. Perhaps that wasn't the way he should have approached the subject. But then again, how was he supposed to ask a six-year-old boy to make a decision that was going to affect so many people for years to come?

Pushing himself up into a standing position, he ran a hand through his hair and headed towards John's bedroom. Taking a deep breath outside, he knocked on the door. When there was no answer he entered anyway. The room appeared deserted, which meant that John had taken refuge inside the den that they'd built all those weeks ago now.

"John? Can I come in?" he asked tentatively as he approached the draped sheets.

"No," came the short reply.

Smiling in spite of the situation, Harry disobeyed the order and ducked his head under the flap. John was leaning against the wall, his knees tucked up beneath his chin and his toy owl hugged close to his chest. Carefully, Harry sat down on the layers of quilts and blankets next to him.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," he said quietly. "I just needed to know if you hated the idea or not. Obviously you do."

"I don't," John mumbled, tear trails snaking their way down his small face.

"You don't?" Harry asked, surprised. He'd assumed from John's reaction that he was completely opposed to the idea of living with Jenny. And, if he was honest with himself, part of him was pleased. Not only so that he could tell Jenny that she was wrong, but because that way John would get to stay with him.

"Everybody leaves me," the little boy whispered, his voice so quiet that Harry had to strain his ears to hear him. "First Daddy, then Mummy, and now even you don't want me."

The realisation crashed over Harry and rose in him like vomit. A lump formed in his throat and the corners of his eyes prickled painfully.

"Oh, John..." he breathed, looking at the innocent little boy in front of him who didn't deserve any of this. It had never occurred to Harry that John might take it this way, might assume that nobody wanted him. And in that moment, he'd never hated himself more. Because he _had_ been selfish. He'd failed to see what was staring him in the face.

Grasping the little boy's hand tightly, Harry said, "Okay, now you listen to me. It was just a suggestion. I am _not_ trying to get rid of you. That is the last thing on earth I want to do, I _promise_. I have loved having you here these past few weeks. It's been really, really wonderful. I hope you've enjoyed being here?"

John nodded, looking up at Harry with a tearful smile.

"But," Harry continued, "Wouldn't it be so cool to live with Tommy? You two can share a room. You can play on his games console all the time. And I know you like Jenny, too. You'd actually have brothers and sisters, wouldn't that be great?"

It was obvious that the idea wasn't as appalling to John as Harry had first thought. In fact, he looked almost excited by the prospect.

"But I would miss you," he murmured.

"Hey, don't think you'd be getting rid of me that easily," Harry countered, nudging John gently in the side. "You can come round here to stay with me whenever you want. I can pick you up from school and you can have tea here. Perhaps we'll get Nikki, our resident chef, in too. I would never just forget about you, okay? Trust me, you're always going to be a part of my life. But yes ... I will miss you, too."

Pushing himself up onto his knees, John looked Harry right in the eye, with the demeanour of someone thirty years older than he was, and said, very clearly, "If you want me to stay with you, then I will."

A sad smile crept onto Harry's lips. Never did that boy fail to amaze him.

"I want whatever it is you want," he told him, but he already knew what it was that John wanted.

"I love you, Harry," John mumbled, a fresh tear sliding down his cheek.

Harry outstretched his arms and John and crawled into his lap, curling up against his chest as Harry hugged him tightly.

"I love you too, kiddo. You are such a bright, wonderful little boy," he said honestly. "You know that, right? You're my little man, my little soldier. You have been _so_ brave and I couldn't be more proud of you if I tried."

They sat like that for a while, with Harry gently stroking John's blonde hair. No more tears were shed; it had been a painful decision, but it had been made.

It wasn't for nearly an hour that John spoke again. "Can I leave the den here? For when I come and visit you?"

Harry chuckled quietly. "Of course you can."

"When ... when will I be leaving? Tomorrow?"

Shaking his head, Harry said, "No, not tomorrow. It's going to take a while to get everything sorted. You'll still be with me for a little while."

"That's good. I'm don't think I want to say goodbye yet," John replied, very matter-of-factly.

Swallowing hard, Harry said, "Come on, let's get something to eat. You're right, pasta is boring. Shall we fish out those pizza menus and watch the rest of _Nemo_?"

Taking John's hand, the two of them crawled out from the den and headed back into the lounge. John jumped immediately back onto the sofa, just as he had done upon his arrival home from school. It was almost as if the last couple of hours had never happened, and part of Harry wished that they hadn't. But Leo was right; he had always known what to do. From the moment he took John under his wing, Harry had known that it wasn't a permanent thing. Really, he'd just been waiting for this day to come. Anyway, it could be worse. Jenny was great and he would still get to see John all the time. It wasn't like he was being thrown back into the foster system, shunned from home to home for the next twelve years. This was the best option.

.

It wasn't until after Harry had put John to bed that he finally decided to call Nikki. He wasn't entirely sure if she would answer after he'd snapped at her earlier, but she did, on just the second ring.

"Harry?" she asked, sounding almost relieved to hear his voice.

"Yeah. Sorry if I'm interrupting your evening."

"Oh no, you're not. Mark's just left, so I'm all yours," she said.

There was the shadow of a bitter smile on his lips for a moment, before he said, "John and I ... we've made a decision."

"The right one?" Nikki asked carefully.

"Yes. Tomorrow I'll ring Jane and tell her ... tell her to get the ball rolling for Jenny to adopt him," he told her.

Nikki's sigh was clearly audible down the phone. "Oh, Harry. I really am sorry, you know."

"I know."

"How did John take it?"

"I think he's torn between not wanting to leave here and the prospect of a permanent sleepover with his best friend," he smiled.

"Do you want me to come round? You sound like you could use some company," she offered.

Harry deliberated for a moment, but if he was honest with himself he was so emotionally drained that all he wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep. "No, I'm fine. I'll probably just get an early night."

"Are you sure? I can bring wine?"

"Honestly, Nikki, thanks for the offer but I'm exhausted. I'll see you tomorrow at work, okay?" he said, his tone making it obvious that they'd reached the end of the conversation.

"Harry? You did the right thing, you know."

His voice cracked as he replied, "Then why does it hurt so much?"

"Right, I'm coming over. And you're not going to stop me," she said firmly, and he could almost hear her putting her feet into her shoes.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later there was a knock at his door. Unable to prevent the smile that spread across his face, he crossed the room and opened it.

"Sorry I look such a mess," was her greeting as she crossed the threshold. "I've been wearing an uncomfortable dress all evening, and it was such a relief to put these on that I didn't want to change again."

She was wearing skinny jeans, a loose-fitting jumper which was worn into holes in the elbow and, as she kicked off her boots, a pair of thick fluffy socks became apparent. Her hair was down and tousled, her face free of makeup and, as far as he was concerned, she didn't look a mess at all. Far from it, in fact.

"Why were you wearing a dress if it was uncomfortable?" he asked as he followed her into the lounge, grabbing the bottle opener and some glasses from the kitchen as he went.

Nikki didn't reply, merely threw him a pitying gaze that told him he would never understand even if she did explain.

"Ooh, it's like déjà vu," she grinned as he opened the wine she'd brought with her. "We do this far too often."

"What, have self-pitying, late night drinking sessions?" he laughed.

"Yes," she replied simply. "It's quite sad, it really is."

"Well, at least you've got someone else," Harry said, trying to keep the jealous edge from his voice. "Who have I got?"

Nikki's whole demeanour softened. "Hey. You have me. And John."

Harry snorted derisively. "I haven't got John for much longer though, have I? Give it a couple of weeks and he'll be gone. And you? You have Mark. And he's 'the one', isn't he? So while you're here at the moment, soon you'll move in with him and get married and have kids of your own, and there won't be any time for self-pitying drinking sessions then, will there? Then it will just be me, on my own, with nothing to show for my life other than a string of meaningless one-night stands."

He hadn't even been aware that he was thinking it until the words came pouring out of his mouth, but it was strangely liberating getting it all off his chest. He stopped talking and took a deep breath, turning to look at Nikki and gage her reaction; her expression, however, remained unreadable.

He sighed, shaking his head with a bitter laugh. "C'est la vie, right?" he muttered, and downed the contents of his glass.

It was almost too painful to bear, the silence that followed. Perhaps he'd said the wrong thing, although he couldn't think what. "Are you okay?" he asked her lightly, just to break the quiet.

Nikki looked slightly dazed, her eyes unfocused for a moment before she suddenly stood up. "I need to go," she told him sharply, already walking from the room.

Stunned, Harry got to his feet and followed her. "But you only just got here!"

"I know," she nodded, sliding her feet back into her boots. "I know. But I have to go."

"Was it something I did? Something I said?" he called after her as she placed a hand on the door.

Slowly, she turned around to face him again. "No," she said simply, a small smile on her face. "No, it was nothing you did."

And to his great surprise, she strode back over to him, placed her hands gently on his shoulders, stood on tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Just for a moment. She was soon standing in the open doorway once more, that quiet smile lingering as she said again, "It is nothing you did."

And then she left.

* * *

><p><strong>Firstly, I want to use this space to apologise for not reviewing anyone else's stuff over the past few days. It's because I haven't even had the time to read any of it, let alone write a review. I've been crazy-busy with deadlines for uni, which, apparently, I'm meant to put first.<br>**

**But now I'm finished for Christmas (YAY) and get a whole month off (DOUBLE YAY) so there should be more frequent updates of this, potentially a one-shot or two, and I will catch up on everyone else's AMAZING work over the next couple of days. **

**Awesome. :)**

**Charlotte xxx **


	18. Eighteen

**Eighteen**

_"And the tears come streaming down your face, when you lose something you can't replace."_

- 'Fix You' by Coldplay

**.**

Harry didn't see Nikki for the next couple of days. He'd requested the weekend off from Leo, wanting to spend as much time as possible with John before he left. So it wasn't until Monday morning, when he strolled into the Thomas Lyell Centre around nine-thirty after dropping John off at school, that he was finally able to speak to her properly.

"Good morning," he said tentatively as he approached her desk. She was hunched over, her pen poised on a piece of paper, but she wasn't writing. Instead she looked lost in thought.

But his arrival seemed to snap her out of her trance and to his great surprise she positively beamed up at him, looking happier than he'd seen her in a while. "Morning," she smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, how are you?"

It was the return of the overly-polite pleasantries that they were way beyond in their close friendship now, yet always seemed to fall back on to avoid the elephant in the room.

"Fine," she nodded. "Good weekend with John?"

"Great weekend with John," he replied, starting to become unnerved now. He pushed off the side of her desk that he'd been leaning on. "Good weekend with Mark?" he asked, his back to her as he crossed to his own desk.

"Yeah ... There's actually something I wanted to tell you," Nikki said, and he didn't miss the unmistakable change of tone to her voice. She got to her feet and stood in front of him, looking up at him with something that closely resembled apprehension.

"Oh? What might that be?"

"It's about Mark and me," she began, but before she could say anything else Harry's mobile phone started to trill in his jeans pocket.

"Damn," he muttered, pulling it out and glancing at the display, "Hold that thought. Hello?"

_"Oh, hello. This is Angela Hartley from St. Bernadette's school,"_ came a harassed, impatient-sounding voice. _"Is that Harry Cunningham, John Starling's guardian?"_

A wave of worry swept over Harry, distinguishing all thoughts of anything else from his mind. "Yes, that's me. What's happened?"

_"I'm afraid you need to come and pick John up. We've had a burst pipe and several classrooms have flooded,"_ Angela told him hurriedly, in a tone that clearly said she'd already recited this line a hundred times.

"But I only just dropped him off! How can you have flooded in the space of an hour?" he exclaimed.

_"Unfortunately, Mr Cunningham, I am not a plumber. And until one arrives it is not safe for us to keep the children here. John will be in the hall with the rest of his class, please pick him up from there when you arrive,"_ she told him, a note of finality in her words.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I'll be there soon."

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he laughed and said to Nikki, "Apparently there's some kind of flood at John's school. I have to go and get him."

"But-" she began, reaching for his hand as he tried to leave.

"We'll talk later," he smiled, giving her fingers a squeeze before pulling away. "I'll have to bring John back here anyway; I'll see you in a few minutes."

Nikki nodded, slightly dejectedly, as Harry retreated from the room. He shouted to Leo where he was going, then buzzed himself from the office.

**.**

As it turned out, Harry didn't have another chance to talk to Nikki for the rest of the day. He'd had to take John back to the Lyell Centre, for lack of anything else to do with him, and so had been forced to divide his time between his work and making sure the young boy wasn't sticking a pipette somewhere that he shouldn't be. When Zak was finally free and able to watch John for a while, Nikki was out at a crime scene. He couldn't really hang around the lab for much longer; John was moaning that his stomach was rumbling and he had no idea when Nikki would be back.

However, just as he and John were bidding Leo goodnight, the oh-so-familiar sound of her heels could be heard in the distance.

Jumping to his feet, Harry said, "Leo, could you watch John for a minute? I just need to talk to Nikki."

"Of course. Everything all right?"

Harry shrugged. "I think so."

He found Nikki hooking her jacket over the back of her chair, and it was only then that he noticed how tired she looked.

"Tough case?" he asked quietly, coming to a halt beside her.

She jumped a little, then sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Not really. Suspected suicide. It's the insufferable detective that's given me a migraine." She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand before adding, "I thought you'd be gone by now."

"We're on our way out," he informed her, dragging a stool to the opposite side of her desk and perching on it. His eyes fell on a giggling John through the glass wall of Leo's office. "Am I doing the right thing?" he asked suddenly.

Nikki followed his gaze. "I've already told you that you are."

They lapsed into silence. Just for a moment, but it was long enough for the niggling feelings that had been troubling Harry for a while to manifest themselves into fully-formed, all-consuming thoughts. "Perhaps I should never have got involved. I got attached. John got attached. And now we're both going to get hurt when he has to leave. And all because of what? Some stupid notion I had that I was meant to be that little kid's knight in shining armour?"

Sighing sympathetically, Nikki said, "You're being ridiculous. You know full well that if you hadn't intervened then John would have ended up in a foster or care home somewhere. He'd have got lost in the system, shoved around from place to place with no real family. You did save him, Harry."

But Harry was hardly listening to her. Shaking his head, he said, "This is why I don't let people in. This is why I hold people at arm's length. Because anyone who does get close ... gets hurt. And I can't bear to be at the root of that any longer. I'm better off alone."

He stared at his feet for a moment, before finally turning to face her. There were tears sparkling in her tired eyes, and he knew exactly what she was thinking: that in some respects, she was exactly the same.

"I'm sorry," he said, attempting a smile. "This wasn't even what I came over to talk about. You said this morning that you had something to tell me?"

"Oh," she said, her eyes finally falling away from his face. "I, erm ... It's not really important."

"Nikki, come on," he persisted. "You seemed quite excited by whatever it is this morning."

She gave him a small smile, fiddling with an old post-it note. "It's Mark and I ... We've – we've decided to move in together."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Blimey. That's a first for you, isn't it? Letting a guy get that close to you?"

Her eyes connected with his and she gave him that small smile again. "I suppose it is."

Standing up and outstretching his arms, he said, "Well, congratulations!"

She readily accepted his embrace, although he couldn't help but notice that she clung on just a little tighter than usual.

Inhaling that flowery smell that was so distinctly Nikki and trying to keep the slightly jealous edge from his voice, he muttered, "Well, at least one of us isn't doomed to be alone forever."

**.**

The next three weeks passed quickly. Too quickly. The summer holidays had arrived and brought with it plenty of opportunities for Harry and John to get out and about, but the trouble with going out nearly every day was that the time passed even faster. All too soon it was time for John to leave.

They'd spent their last morning together packing all of the little boy's belongings into Harry's car, an activity hampered by the fact that John wanted all of his soft toys and action figures to have their own seats and seatbelts. Eventually, just before lunchtime, they were standing in what was now Harry's spare bedroom once more. The den was still there, for when John came to visit, but apart from that there was no sign that a child had inhabited the room for more than two months.

"Come on," Harry said, glancing at his watch. "You're not due to be at Tommy's house for another couple of hours. Let's go to the park."

The park was busy, with everyone making the most of a gloriously sunny Saturday afternoon. Harry and John sat at a bench, slurping on ice creams and not saying much.

"You okay, kiddo?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'll miss you," John murmured.

"I know, and I'll miss you too," he replied, a lump in his throat. "But we're still going to see each other all the time. And think how much fun you're going to have with Tommy! I wish I lived with my best friend."

"You wish you lived with Nikki?" John asked, looking up at Harry innocently. "Then why don't you just ask her?"

"No, I didn't mean – never mind," Harry smiled, shaking his head.

"You said you wished you lived with your best friend, and Nikki is your best friend!" he reasoned. "So you do want to live with her."

Sighing, Harry said, "It doesn't matter, anyway. She's moving in with Mark, now."

"Is Mark her boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Do you not like Mark?"

"I've never met him," Harry explained. "So I can't really say if I like him or not, can I?"

"But you say his name funny. You sound like you don't like him," John said simply.

Smiling at his naivety, Harry said, "You're too smart for your own good, you."

"So you _don't_ like him?" the little boy asked. "Why?"

"It's complicated," he replied.

"Not really. Is it because you want to be Nikki's boyfriend? Because if it is then that's not complicated at all. That's easy," the little boy said simply, then, "Can we go to the lab? I haven't said goodbye to Nikki and Leo yet! They'll probably be expecting me to pop in."

Harry sat, stunned, for a moment, then laughed and said, "You know what, they probably are. Okay, we'll drop in on our way to Jenny's."

John had been right, Nikki and Leo had been anticipating their arrival, judging by the massive hug Nikki grabbed the young boy in as soon as he arrived.

"We can't stop long," Harry told them regretfully. "Jenny's expecting us."

"I promise I'll see you again soon," Nikki murmured, bending down so that she was eye level with John. "Perhaps we'll go to the zoo again. You can get that toy otter so that your penguin can have a new friend."

A smile crept onto John's face as he considered this idea. "Yeah, let's do that!" he grinned. "But only if Leo can come too this time."

"Of course I'll come," Leo assured him, also bending down as Nikki straightened up. "I've always wanted to see the sharks in the aquarium."

"The sharks have very big teeth, you know," John said solemnly. "But you can hold my hand if you get scared. So can you, Nikki. And then Harry can hold your hand. Like boyfriend and girlfriend, only not, because you're just friends."

Nikki smiled, but Harry didn't miss the slight blush that rose in her cheeks. Averting her eyes, he glared at John, who looked back innocently. Leo, however, really laughed and said to John, "You're brilliant, you know that? You are such a clever, _brilliant_ little boy, and I am really going to miss having you around."

John flung his arms around Leo's neck tightly, until Harry said, "Come on then, Johnny boy. We should get going."

"Bye," John said simply, giving Leo and Nikki a wave as he slipped through the door Harry was holding open. Harry also looked back, although a grin was distinctly absent from his face. Leo gave him a sympathetic smile. But it was Nikki who nodded reassuringly, gazing at him with a look that clearly said however hard it was, he was doing the right thing. He nodded back, whether to say thank you or let her know that he understood, he wasn't entirely sure, before stepping out into the corridor and letting the door swing shut behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Only one or two chapters left now! Shocking!<br>**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews, you really don't know how much it means to me. :)**

**Charlotte xxx**


	19. Nineteen

**Nineteen**

_"Safety net don't hold me now, in this hole I've fallen down."_

- 'Skin' by Zola Jesus

The next week passed in a bit of a blur for Harry, mostly due to the rather copious amounts of alcohol he seemed to be consuming during the long, lonely evenings. He hadn't expected to miss John's presence this much; had assumed that once he was gone, everything would go back to normal, back to the way it was before. Perhaps it had, and he just hadn't noticed how much of a pathetic 'bachelor' he was until now.

He'd really thrown himself into his work, taking the difficult cases just so he'd have an excuse to not sleep, a reason to be at work before anyone else and leave after everyone had gone home. Nikki had tried to tempt him out for drinks twice but he'd declined, so she had taken to ordering take-out to the lab and sitting with him until he was finished, making sure that he did actually go home. A part of him resented her for it, wished that he could be left alone to wallow in self-pity. The other part of him didn't know what he'd do without her.

And now it was late Friday afternoon, and Harry was on desk duty catching up on the dozens of emails all awaiting urgent reply in his inbox. Across the room, he could see Nikki and Leo conversing quietly in Leo's office, occasionally sending a glance in his direction. He would have liked to ignore them, but it was incredibly distracting. Getting to his feet and stretching, he headed across to his boss's office. As he suspected, the occupants of the room both fell silent as he entered.

"Should my ears be burning?" he joked.

"Not at all," Leo said quickly, slightly too quickly to be believable. "We were just discussing the party Janet and I are having tonight."

"If this is some ploy to get me out of either the lab or my apartment, then-"

"Of course it's not," tutted Leo. "It's mine and Janet's three year anniversary today, and we're hosting a small get-together to celebrate."

Frowning, Harry said, "Three years since what? You aren't actually married."

This time it was Nikki who tutted. "Three years since the first day they met, fool."

"Oh." It sounded a bit like an excuse to have a party, if Harry was honest with himself, but he could see the genuine excitement in his boss's face. "Why am I only just being told this? Was I not invited?"

"We figured you had enough on your plate," Nikki said gently. "We deliberately waited until today to tell you so that you could see how you're feeling before you commit to coming or not."

She made it sound like he had some sort of terminal disease, he thought, and it angered him. "I'm fine," he said clearly. "Why wouldn't I be? Of course I'll be there, Leo, what time do you want me?"

"Seven-ish? It's only a few close friends and family coming."

"Okay, great," Harry nodded, before turning to Nikki. "I'll pick you up on the way?"

"Sure," she smiled.

And so, at ten to seven that evening, Harry was knocking on the door of Nikki's apartment. It was a while before she opened it, and when she did she was putting an earring in with one hand and tugging on a high-heeled shoe with the other.

"Ready to go?" he asked sarcastically, as she hopped away from the door to allow him entry.

"Shut up. I just need five more minutes," she told him, disappearing in the direction of her bedroom.

He laughed, closing the front door and heading into her lounge. Immediately, something seemed off. It took him a moment to realise that it was the lack of boxes; two weeks ago she'd told him that she was moving in with Mark, there should be more boxes around. Unless they hadn't finalised where they were living yet.

"No Mark tonight then?" he said loudly. "I thought he'd have been your plus one."

"He's working," she called from somewhere in her bedroom, her body appearing in the doorway a moment later. She looked stunning in a black shift dress, her hair and makeup immaculate. "Can you zip me up, please?" she asked, turning around to reveal her dress open at the back, her bare skin unconcealed.

He walked over to her, swallowing hard as he said, "Sure."

He grasped the material at the bottom of the zip between her hips and gently tugged the zipper up with deft fingers. Stopping when he reached level with the bottom of her hair, he found the need to exhale deeply as he gently pushed her blonde curls aside. She gasped quietly as his fingertips brushed the exposed skin between her shoulder blades, and he let them linger for a moment longer than was strictly necessary.

"Harry..." she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed.

Suddenly, the whole atmosphere in the room had changed. Whereas before it had been still and relaxed, normal even, now it was charged and tense, something he wasn't used to. Trying to keep his breathing under control he slid the zip up the remainder of the way and then gently put her hair back in place. He felt her content sigh rather than hear it. Slowly, she turned around in his arms and carefully placed her hands on his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.

"You're very welcome," he replied, equally quietly.

And then his phone rang and the moment was broken. Her hands were instantly gone from his chest, as if his skin had burnt her through his shirt. He automatically took a step backwards, clearing his throat as he tugged his phone from his pocket.

"It's Leo," he told her, rather unnecessarily, as he raised the phone to his ear. Nikki nodded and proceeded to avert his gaze by packing her phone, keys and lipstick into her handbag. Accepting the call, he said, "Yes, Leo?"

"Where are you? It's nearly quarter-past. Seven, I said," Leo scolded loudly over the deafening music in the background.

"Actually, you said seven_-ish_, which implied that there was room for negotiation," Harry retorted. "Anyway, we're just about to leave Nikki's. I had to wait for her to finish getting ready, as usual."

"All right, just get a bloody move on," Leo said, ending the call.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Harry chuckled and said, "Leo's getting antsy. I'm also pretty sure there were about a hundred people in the background. I thought it was a 'small get-together'?"

"Perhaps Janet invited more people than Leo realised," Nikki smiled. "Shall we go?"

And just like that all awkwardness evaporated between them. That moment that they'd shared, or whatever it had been, was forgotten.

They drove the ten minutes to Leo and Janet's house in a comfortable silence, parking further away than they normally would do due to the sheer volume of cars in and around his driveway.

"I hope his neighbours were warned," Nikki laughed as there was a disapproving curtain twitch from the house on whose pavement Harry had parked.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked abruptly, killing the engine so that silence fell completely.

"Of course," she replied, though she looked suddenly nervous.

"Can we not talk about John tonight?"

He was surprised when he saw relief flood Nikki's face, which was hastily covered with a frown. "Have you seen him since he moved in with Jenny?" she asked gently.

He shook his head. "No. We agreed to just let him settle in for the first couple of weeks. I spoke to him on the phone though, yesterday. He sounded happy."

"What about you?" she muttered, twisting around in her seat to better observe him.

He was quiet for a moment, and then said, "I sounded happy too," with a wry smile.

Nikki sighed sympathetically as Harry climbed out of the car to avoid further questioning. A moment later and she joined him on the pavement. Locking the door, he slipped the keys into his pocket and offered Nikki his arm. "Milady."

She giggled and said, "Milord," as she looped her arm through his and they walked up to Leo's house.

Their boss answered the door quickly, looking harassed and impatient. "About time," he said. They followed him into the lounge, which was jam-packed with people.

"Bloody hell, Leo," Harry said as they fought their way through to the considerably more empty kitchen. "I didn't know you had so many friends!"

Leo threw him a withering glare and said, "It was Janet. She invited _everyone_."

"Stop being such a spoilsport," came Janet's voice from behind them. "Hi, you two." The older woman smiled and hugged them both, then turned back to Leo and said, "When do we ever get a chance to do this? So stop complaining and go and dance. Now!"

Leo shuffled off, moaning something along the lines of 'over my dead body'. Nikki giggled as Janet said, "Don't worry, I plan on plying him with alcohol to get him to loosen up."

"Anything we can do to help?" Harry asked as Janet opened a top cupboard and peered up at the paper plates sitting on the top shelf.

"Yes, you're tall, you can reach those for me," she said. Harry stretched an arm up and grabbed the plates, returning her grateful smile as he passed them to her. "And now you can go in there, pour yourselves a drink and go and enjoy yourself. Both of you."

They didn't need telling twice, and so they headed back into the crowded lounge. Leo was deep in conversation with someone Harry vaguely recognised from toxicology, so he and Nikki elbowed their way over to the makeshift drinks table in the corner of the room.

"What are you having?" Harry asked, picking up two champagne flutes.

"Anything," Nikki said, wincing at the sheer volume of the music and chatter of conversation filling the air behind them.

**.**

Harry spent the next hour or so stuck in awkward conversations with people from the Lyell Centre who he should probably know the names of but didn't. Then there were Janet's friends from the police, whose conversation was far more stimulating but was only ever about the mutual topic of crime solving, which grew tedious after a while. Even Nikki had disappeared a while ago to give Janet a hand and hadn't returned, much to Harry's annoyance. Eventually, under the pretence of 'visiting the toilet', he managed to escape and made a beeline straight for Janet, who was carefully arranging bowls of pretzels and peanuts beside the rapidly diminishing drinks.

"You haven't seen Nikki, have you?"

Janet used her thumbnail to break the plastic seal on a tin of chocolates before saying, "She said she needed some fresh air about half an hour ago, I think it was."

Concerned, Harry said, "But she was all right earlier."

"I think it was all a bit too much for her," she told him, an expression on her face which told Harry that perhaps she knew more than she was letting on.

A frown on his face, Harry nodded and crossed the crowded lounge, stepping through the already open French doors. The large garden was bathed in a golden light from the setting summer sun, and sitting on a bench, her figure silhouetted slightly, was Nikki. She barely glanced up as he approached and didn't move when he sat beside her.

"Come and dance with me?" he asked, leaning back against the bench and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"You can't dance," she replied.

"True, but I have had enough alcohol to make a fool of myself trying."

She smiled. "Tempting, but I think I'll pass."

"You okay?" he asked lightly.

"Are you?"

"Stop it. Don't try and reverse psychology me."

"I'm not, although if anyone needs a therapist, it's you."

"How dare you?" he said in mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I am the picture of mental health. You're the one sitting out here wallowing in self-pity."

"What, like you've been all week?" she retorted.

Harry laughed slightly and said, "Perhaps we're both as screwed up as each other."

She smiled dryly. "Perhaps we are."

They lapsed into silence for a moment, watching the setting sun turn the sky from golden yellow to a deep orangey-pink.

"So, you going to tell me what's bothering you?" he asked eventually. "I mean, you know what's wrong with me so it's only fair, really."

She sighed and then confessed, "Mark and I ... we ended things. Well, _I_ ended things."

Well, he hadn't been expecting that. Shock plastered over his face, Harry said, "Why? When?"

"Er, because I realised that I didn't love him and about a fortnight ago," she informed him, gazing down at her knees.

"But ... a fortnight ago you told me that you were moving in together!" he protested, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he struggled to understand.

"I made that up."

"Wait a minute ... two weeks ago, you were round at mine. You rushed out, saying that you had to do something," he recalled, his suspicions confirmed as she nodded. "You went and broke up with him _then_?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

"Because of you!" she said, and just for a moment something tight seemed to grip at his stomach. That was, until she added, "You, and what you said about ending up alone and being with the right person and everything. It made me realise that Mark wasn't the right person for me."

"So why say that you were moving in together? Why didn't you just tell me that you'd broken up? Don't you like our drinking ritual that follows one of us going through a break up?" he asked her, causing a small smile to grace her lips.

"I wanted to tell you, but then you started going on and on about how you were better off alone and it was just easier not to," she confessed quietly.

"But why would it make a difference what I was saying about myself-" A sudden, crashing sense of realisation hit Harry full in the face, knocking all the breath from his body as he quickly twisted his head to look at the silent woman beside him. She was still averting his eyes. But everything made sense now... How could he have been so _oblivious_?

It took him a moment to regain his voice, and when he did he breathed, "Oh, _Nikki.._." as if her name somehow physically pained him. Perhaps it did.

"It's fine, Harry," she said hastily, a false smile plastered to her lips. "It's nothing, just don't worry about it."

She looked up at the sky and he didn't miss the glint of sunlight reflected in the tear rolling down her pale skin. Sighing, he leant forward and muttered, "It's not nothing." When she still refused to make eye contact, he said more forcefully. "Nikki, look at me."

"What?" she whispered, her gaze finally connecting with his.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, he used a thumb to brush the solitary tear from her cheek and said again, "It is _not_ nothing. You should have just told me."

"What, so that we could do what we've done in the past; either ignore it, argue about it, or run from it?" she pointed out, slightly bitterly.

Harry had no idea how to handle this situation. It had been the last conversation he'd been expecting to have tonight. He tried to read Nikki's expression, gage her emotions, but it was impossible to look in her eyes and not see the hurt that he had caused her, however unintentionally he may have done so.

"When did you ... realise?" he asked her carefully.

"That evening two weeks ago."

He sighed again, the kind of sigh which suggested he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "And then I told you that I was better off alone, when the whole time you were trying to tell me that you..." he trailed off. "I'm such an _idiot_."

"You're not," she smiled sadly. "How were you to know-"

"Exactly," he said loudly, looking at her beseechingly. "I _have_ been an idiot, Nikki. I was so preoccupied with John that I didn't pay enough attention to our relationship."

"We saw each other every day," she reminded him, clearly slightly amused.

"Yes, I _saw_ you but I didn't _look_ at you. There's a difference," he told her, to which she looked slightly stunned. "No wonder we've argued recently."

They both leant back heavily against the bench, staring ahead of them at the sunset.

"You felt it, didn't you?" she whispered uncertainly. "Earlier at my apartment, I mean. You felt it too?"

Simultaneously, they turned their heads ninety degrees to look at each other. "Yes," he nodded. "I felt it. Not for the first time, and I doubt for the last."

Nikki laughed in a tired kind of way and said, "You're right, we are _so_ screwed up."

"Told you so."

It wasn't until Harry's smile began to fade that he noticed the proximity of her lips. This was his chance, all he had to do was make the metaphorical leap and take it. She was still grinning in that utterly bedazzling way that she does, her eyes locked with his. For years, he'd assumed that when this moment arrived he would be terrified, paralysed with nerves. But he wasn't, and he found this strange. Maybe it was his mind's way of telling him that it was about bloody time he did something, took the first step to break the stalemate he and Nikki had reached all those years ago.

And so he did do something.

He kissed her.

* * *

><p><strong>This is a bloody long chapter, I know, but there's only one more left now! Then I may take a break from multi-chaps for a while (I say that now, it won't last) because I clearly suck at updating them regularly. I'm going to blame university. I do have a couple of one-shots in the works though, so they should be appearing soon. <strong>

**Thank you so much to everyone who is still sticking with this! If it was me I'd probably have given up by now. I hope I didn't let you down in the chapter, I was very nervous about writing it.**

**Hugs,  
>Charlotte xxx <strong>


	20. Twenty

**Twenty**

_"If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"_

- 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol

**.**

"What about this one?"

Harry looked up from where he was brewing coffee in his pyjamas and over to the table in his kitchen, where Nikki was curled up on a chair wearing nothing but one of his shirts, her hair tousled and messy. She was chewing thoughtfully on the end of a biro and on the table in front of her was the property section of the local paper.

Sighing, for he'd heard that question a thousand times in the last week, he pushed off the worktop and walked over to her, his bare feet padding across the tiled floor. Gently taking her wrist, he pulled her to her feet and sat in her place, before tugging her back down onto his lap.

"Look," she continued eagerly. "It's gorgeous. A proper house with two bedrooms and a lovely garden and natural oak flooring and _everything_. There's even a fireplace in the master bedroom, which is very romantic."

He raised an eyebrow as she smiled sweetly at him and dropped a quick kiss onto his lips. Shaking his head, he picked up the newspaper, his frown deepening as he read the advert. "How much? I'm not made of money, you know. Neither of us is. Unless you've got some secret sugar daddy that you're planning on killing off any day now."

A smile graced her soft features. "If I did, would you do the post-mortem and say it was natural causes to cover for me?"

"What, and waste my one chance to get rid of you for good? Not bloody likely," he scoffed, grinning as she giggled.

"I know it's expensive, but it's _beautiful_, Harry," she said, drawing a large circle around the advert and pouting at him.

He knew it was no good arguing with her; there was a very little chance of him winning. But still, he didn't like to concede defeat too quickly. Instead, he pulled the paper from her grip and pretended to examine it for a full minute before saying, "Fine, we'll ring the estate agent Monday."

"Yes! Thank you," she smiled triumphantly. She kissed him again, for longer this time, her hand sliding across his shoulder and gripping his t-shirt tightly.

They broke apart and Harry gently tucked a curl behind Nikki's ear, jumping slightly when the coffee machine beeped behind him.

"I still don't know what the rush is," he muttered, as she stood up so that he could do the same.

"Rush?" she exclaimed, flopping back into the chair. "Harry, it's been three months! Actually, no – scratch that. It's been _eight years._ Anyway, I've already sacrificed my beautiful apartment to live in this ... this _bachelor pad_, it's about time we got our own place._"_

Laughing, Harry said, "I'm only winding you up. I guess living with you wouldn't be _too_ bad... Might be nice to have a garden for once."

She smiled broadly, standing beside him and gently blowing on her mug of coffee.

"We should probably get dressed..." she commented, glancing at the clock on the oven.

"No!" he protested, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her body against his. "It's eleven o'clock on a Saturday morning and we both have the day off, there should be a law against getting dressed before midday."

Giggling, she half-heartedly fought against his grip and said, "You're being ridiculous. John will be here at one, we can hardly greet him in our pyjamas!"

Incredulously, he said, "I'm well aware of what time John is arriving, thank you very much. Besides, it does not take two hours to get dressed. And have I mentioned how very beautiful you look when you steal my shirts?"

"Only a hundred times," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well it's true."

"_Anyway_," she interrupted, turning to face him so that she could loop her arms around Harry's neck and smirk suggestively. "It does take two hours to get dressed when you do it my way."

Brushing her hair away from her face, he grinned and kissed her long and hard on the mouth, deepening it as she moaned quietly, her fingers finding their way to his hair. "Well," he said when they broke apart, "when you put it like that."

**.**

"I'll get it!" Harry called excitedly, when there was a knock at the door a little after one that afternoon.

Appearing beside him, Nikki tutted and said, "You're such a child. We'll _both_ get it."

The smile that appeared on Harry's face when he opened the door to discover John standing on his doorstep, Jenny behind him, rivalled no other. Straight away, the little boy ran at him for a hug, standing on tiptoes and wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. Laughing, Harry bent down and easily lifted him up, swinging him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift that made John squeal with laughter.

Smiling, Jenny passed Nikki John's overnight bag and said, "What time do you want me to pick him up tomorrow?"

"Oh, don't be silly; we'll drop him off," Nikki protested immediately.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Harry nodded, putting John back on the ground. "We're not sure what time we'll be done or anything yet, so it's easier all round."

"Okay, that's fine by me," Jenny said, before turning to John and saying, "Have a good time. Be good!"

"I'm always good!" John protested haughtily, causing the three adults to laugh. Jenny ruffled the young boy's hair, bade them all farewell and left.

"So, kiddo, what do you fancy doing this afternoon?" Harry asked.

"Can we just stay here?" he replied. "I haven't seen you for nearly _three whole weeks_; I'd rather be here with you and Nikki than out somewhere. Is that okay?"

"Sounds perfect," Harry replied, smiling at him and then at Nikki, who caught his eye over John's shoulder.

"Can we put _Nemo_ on?" John said eagerly, running over to the DVD player and grabbing the blue case from the shelf beside it. "I haven't seen it in _ages_!"

With a chuckle, Harry said, "How did I know that _Finding Nemo_ would make an appearance this weekend?"

"I'll put the popcorn on," Nikki grinned.

After Harry had seen _Finding Nemo _for the millionth time, he, John and Nikki spent the afternoon at home as promised, making a picture to give to Leo the following day involving a rather copious amount of glitter, and then hidden in the den playing with the plastic Knights of Camelot Harry had given John for his birthday whilst Nikki cooked dinner.

"How's the new school year going?" Harry asked, as John engineered King Arthur in a tactical defeat of a large, scaly dragon.

"I got twenty out of twenty in my spellings yesterday," the little boy smiled.

"Well done! That's excellent! What about your other lessons?"

"We're doing really fun stuff in History," he told him. "That's my favourite lesson. We're studying the Battle of Hastings."

"Which was when?" Harry tested jokily.

Rolling his eyes, John recited automatically, "Ten-sixty-six. Everybody knows that. We're making a massive battle scene from paper mash, it's really good. Like Art and History combined."

"You mean papier-maché?"

"Whatever."

Harry laughed. "Well, that's great. And how are – have the nightmares stopped?"

The last time John had slept over with Harry, he and Nikki had been woken in the early hours of the morning by screaming and crying from the spare room. Harry had been terrified as he'd rushed in with the heaviest book he could find, picturing burglars, only to discover John tangled up under the duvet in the middle of the double bed. His whole body had been shaking and clammy, his cheeks flushed and hot, his eyes wide and fearful.

Eventually, once he had sobbed himself into exhaustion in Harry's arms, Harry had heard the quiet confession of how he'd had a dream, a terrible dream, that he was back inside the car that had killed his mother. He'd been screaming to try and get her to wake up.

But the thing that had affected Harry the most, that had almost brought him to tears too, was the realisation that – unlike for most children – John's nightmares had actually been his reality. And what's more, it wasn't the first time he'd had them. And that had been heartbreaking.

Sitting in front of him now, John shrugged slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he made the figure of King Arthur walk up the hill – previously a cushion. "They're better than they were. Steve and Jenny are really good though. They got me a special nightlight which keeps the bad dreams away."

"You know you can always phone me, don't you?" Harry reminded him. "Whether it's three in the morning or the middle of the day. I will _always_ answer your call. Even if you only want to say hello."

John looked up at him and smiled a toothy smile, two gaps visible where he'd recently lost his baby teeth. "I know."

A shadow appeared on the other side of the sheets and a moment later Nikki stuck her head through the gap. "There's spaghetti carbonara on the table, if anyone's interested?"

Scrambling out of the den, Harry and John followed her into the kitchen. "Why don't you ever cook like this for me?" he joked as he sat down. "I'm always phoning for a takeaway."

Nikki glared at him as she placed a glass of orange squash down for John and sat beside him. "Harry, we don't get home from work until eight most nights. The last thing I feel like doing is cooking. Anyway, why should I? You want food, cook it yourself, you lazy git."

"Well, it's a woman's job," he shrugged, winking at John who giggled.

"Sexist pig," Nikki muttered, but there was a twinkle in her eye as she stabbed her fork into her spaghetti.

They ate in silence for a while, the only sound being that of cutlery clinking against the bowls and the occasional slurping up of a stray strand of spaghetti.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" John asked, twisting the pasta around his fork.

"Leo and Janet have invited us round to their house for dinner," Nikki answered. "I think they've bought you a present back from their honeymoon. God knows what they've found for a seven-year-old boy in Borneo, but apparently they have."

"Was the wedding good?" he said. "Did they like my card I made them?"

"They loved it," she smiled. "And yes, it was a lovely wedding. The flowers they'd decorated the registry office in were stunning. It was quiet though. Small. There were only a few people there."

"Did Janet have a big poofy dress?"

"It wasn't that sort of wedding, kiddo," Harry told him. "But she did wear a lovely dress suit."

"Did you cry? Mummy used to say that everyone cries at weddings, although I don't see why if they're supposed to be a happy day."

Harry laughed. "_I_ didn't cry, but Nikki did of course."

She slapped his arm playfully. "I was happy for them! It was about time they got hitched."

A thoughtful look came over John's face. "Are you and Harry going to be as old as Leo and Janet when you get married?"

Several things happened in quick succession following this question; Harry choked on a piece of spaghetti, Nikki took an exceptionally large gulp of wine and John giggled at the reaction he had caused.

Throat raw and eyes streaming, Harry said, "I don't think we need to worry about that for a while, do you?"

"So you are going to be old," the young boy said solemnly.

"No!" Nikki protested, to which Harry shot her a startled look. She blushed and added, "What I mean is, Janet and Leo are very different to Harry and I. The dynamic of their relationship is different. Leo's been married before and they were both older than we are now when they met. They've only got married now just to make things official for legal documents and the like."

John continued to look a little confused, but he let it go and instead said, "I'd like to go to Leo and Janet's tomorrow for tea. Especially if they've got me a present. Can we go to the park though, too? Before?"

Happy to change the subject, Harry said, "Of course we can. We were also thinking of going bowling in the morning and then getting a pizza for lunch? Nikki's rubbish at bowling, we can beat the pants off her."

His eyes lighting up, John grinned and said happily, "Yeah! Let's do that!"

**.**

Harry climbed into bed later that evening completely and utterly exhausted. He'd forgotten what it was like having a child to run around after. How someone so small managed to be so tiring, he'll never know. But he didn't regret it for a moment. When he'd first met John, he'd been a frightened little boy hiding in a hollowed-out tree, too traumatised to talk to anyone. And now he was a bright, trusting, intuitive seven-year-old; too clever for his own good and brimming with compassion. It was a miracle, really, that he'd got through everything and come out the other side. He'd always heard people say that children are more resilient than adults, but Harry had never truly believed that they could be until now.

He'd just settled down in bed and flicked off his lamp when Nikki emerged from the en-suite bathroom and climbed in behind him. "What are you thinking about?" she muttered, as she picked up her book from the bedside table and settled back against the pillows to read.

"John," he told her, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. "And how incredible he is."

"He is rather wonderful," she agreed with a smile, her nose already buried in one of the gruesome crime novels that she reads. Harry had never understood it, in all the years that he'd known her. How could someone who spent her entire working day around death want to then go home and read about it? "Stop judging my taste in literature," she said, without even looking up.

He smiled slightly, snatching the book from her hands and tossing it to the floor before twisting an arm around her waist and tugging her down into bed. Indignantly, she tutted and murmured something about what she'd do to him if he'd made her lose her page, but she didn't put up much of a fuss when he tugged her against him, wrapping himself around her.

"I love you," he muttered into the crook of her neck, instantly feeling her body stiffen beside him. Although it was extremely obvious and had been for a while, the fact that they loved each other had also remained unspoken. Perhaps due to the fact that it didn't really need saying, or because long-term relationships were new to them both and still slightly terrifying. Whatever it was, up until now those three tiny-yet-crucial words had never been uttered.

"I love you too," she whispered, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"You know, what John said about marriage and everything," he began. "I didn't mean – when I said we don't need to worry about it, I didn't mean ... not ever."

"I knew what you meant," she said, rolling over in his arms to press her lips briefly against his. "One day, right?"

Nodding, he let his forehand fall against hers and whispered, "Soon. One day soon."

* * *

><p><strong>C'est fini! I can't believe this is finally over! I actually had intended to upload this chapter a lot sooner, but then I couldn't decide how to end it. I had two different endings for this chapter planned out, and got stuck trying to decide which one to use! <strong>

**Right, the important part: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH FOR EVERY SINGLE REVIEW****! I had more than I could ever of hoped for on this fic and I will forever be eternally grateful. I love you all so much. Massive hugs in particular for:** _Chloe, Flossie, Izzy, Dinabar, Ollie, Tigpop, Lizziginne, Deadfairies _**and**_ Emma, _**all of whom are completely and utterly awesome.**

**Expect to see a couple of one-shots soon, and I'm sure another multi-chap won't be far behind. :)**

**Charlotte xxxxxx**


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